


Lima/Heights Junction

by quizasvivamos



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Class Differences, Drama, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, High School, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 42,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4595763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quizasvivamos/pseuds/quizasvivamos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as summer vacation is winding down, a fire leaves the kids of Lima Heights without a high school to return to. While necessary repairs are being made, its rival school McKinley High opens its doors to the students of the adjacent town. An inevitable clashing takes place, and tensions run high, but can they find a common ground to overcome their differences to survive this temporary hardship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Blaine reached for the bowl, nearly upsetting it and sending its cheesy, puffed contents flying and onto the carpet. His stomach lurched in that split second when he almost thought he might lose their snack food, and it settled when the bowl was still again, wedged between him and Sam where they sat on the bed, cheesy game controllers in hand, facing Sam’s television. The fan in the window blew on them, cooling their sweat-slick skin as they played yet another few rounds of Super Smash Brothers until Sam got tired of Blaine winning and stood up to switch off the power button.

“You need to stop playing with Pikachu, man! I always get stuck in that headbutt attack. It’s not fair.”

“You get so worked up over some dumb game,” Blaine said through laughter. “Why don’t you stop playing with the Ice Climbers, then? They don’t seem to be winning it for you.”

Sam pouted like a petulant child and proceeded to wipe the orange dust from his fingers onto his shorts.

With the game off, the television played on in the background, displaying the local news, the anchor droning on, but then something caught Blaine’s attention, and he smacked Sam on the arm, pointing to the screen.

“Whoa. What the fuck?”

“Oh my god,” Blaine said, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s our school. And it’s burning down.”

Sam moved closer to the screen. “I know we always joke about not wanting to go to school, but this is not cool.”

Blaine was beginning to feel sick to his stomach as the footage looped. “Sam, can you turn this off? I don’t think I can watch it anymore.”

He practically dove at the television set in response, watching the bright image fade to black.

The door of the apartment creaked open, and Sam instinctively made his way toward it to help his mother bring in the groceries if need be, and Blaine followed him out, both boys still in shock.

“Thanks, Sammy,” Mrs. Evans said as he relieved her of a few bags. It wasn’t much, but he carried it over toward the kitchen area. “I thought there was more on the SNAP card, but I bought all I could, and we’ll have to make due with what I got until the new month starts.” She froze, just then realizing Blaine’s presence. Brushing the hair out of her face, she said, “Oh, hey, Blaine. Are you staying for dinner? You know you’re always welcome.”

Blaine had been in a daze, and he finally stirred and began to stammer. “I know, but, no. No, but thank you. My mom will have dinner made already, so I should probably get home soon.”

“Alright, honey. Tell your mom I said hello for me, will you? Tell her I’m still considering that new creme lipstick she got in.”

“Of course,” Blaine answered with a small smile.

Sam returned from putting the groceries away, walking up beside Blaine. “You’re heading out now?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “I’ll call you soon.”

“Bye, man.” Sam waved as Blaine exited, gently shutting the door behind him.

Once he was out on the street, all he could think about was getting home and telling his mom all about what had happened. The sun was already beginning to set, but it did nothing to reduce the humidity, which caused his hair to curl up and stick to his forehead and the nape of his neck. He walked the few blocks back, sweating through his tank top from the unrelenting mid-August heat. Street lights flickered on as he trod along the cracked, uneven pavement, and when he arrived back in his neighborhood, he was relieved to see his mom’s Honda parked on the street.

Blaine pushed the door open, entering the house to the sounds of his mother’s voice, chattering away to someone on the phone, and he kicked his shoes off, tiptoed past her, and took a seat on the couch, waiting patiently until she was finished. But when Pam saw him, she apologized to her conversation partner and hung up the call. She could tell by the expression on his face that the reels in his head were turning on overdrive, and Blaine looked almost physically ill from worry.

“What’s wrong, Blaine?” Pam made her way to the couch, sitting down beside him and turning her body to face her son. “Weren’t you just at Sam’s? Is everything alright there?”

Blaine nodded slowly. “Yeah, I was.” He paused for a moment. “I’m just...I can’t think straight. Can we eat dinner first?”

“Of course, honey. I picked up McDonald’s for dinner. The bag’s on the table. I just got back a few minutes ago, so it should still be hot.”

Blaine retrieved the white, red, and yellow paper bag and carried it back toward the sofa, setting the bag on the coffee table and pulling out two cheeseburgers and a large order of fries, which he handed to his mom. She never usually ate much more than that, always saying she was watching her figure.

Blaine chewed and swallowed the bite he’d taken before speaking. “There was a fire, Mom. At the high school.”

“Oh my god. How bad was it?”

“I’m not sure, but it looked pretty bad. Sam and I caught it on the news, and it really shook me up.”

“We need to find out what’s going on. What are we supposed to do if there’s no school for you to go back to in September? We need to figure this out. There has to be something about it online. Someone needs to know what’s going on.”

“I’ll go grab my laptop in a minute,” Blaine said through a bit of burger. He held his finger up as he stuffed the last bite into his mouth and then rose from the couch. The school-supplied computer was sitting on the kitchen table, plugged into the wall, and Blaine yanked the cord out before bringing it across the house to his mom.

He handed it over, and Pam wiped her fingers off with a napkin before lifting the screen and typing something quickly into the internet search bar.

“Here it is,” Pam said quietly as she began to read a recently updated news story. “Oh no. This isn’t good at all.”

Blaine scooted in closer beside his mom to see the screen.

“They’re currently ruling the fire at Lima Heights High School an electrical fire, but there will be further investigation. The fire has left an entire wing of the school charred, and some parts even collapsed. It’s not fit for education of any kind, and they won’t be able to complete necessary repairs in time for the new school year,” she read.

“What are we supposed to do then? My sophomore year is just about to start,” Blaine said.

She paused and pointed to the screen. “It says right here that they’re making arrangements to have the Lima Heights students bused to Lima to McKinley High where they’ll attend until further notice.”

“They’re merging the schools?” Blaine said, his brow knitting. “But, how is that even going to work?”

“I don’t know, Blaine,” Pam said, turning to look him in the eye now. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his back. “You won’t miss any school, though. That’s good, right? It’s just going to be a big change and something you’ll have to get used to. At least you’ll have all your friends there with you going through the same.”

She wore a sad, apprehensive close-mouthed smile, and Blaine knew they both were feeling the same unease at the idea of meshing together the two towns by transplanting the kids from The Heights into a neighborhood that was vastly different from their own, especially when it came to social standing and upbringing. It wasn’t unusual to hear the bigoted comments about “those kids” who lived in “that area” or to hear their whispers and feel the burn of their critical gaze when kids from The Heights ventured over to the mall or other hotspots in Lima. It wasn’t a secret that Lima residents looked unfavorably upon those of the adjacent town, and the kids felt the stigma especially, often wondering why.

“We’ll get through this,” his mom said, gently massaging his back.

Blaine hugged his mom and trudged wearily off to bed, stripping off his dirty shorts and tank from the day, tossing them into his laundry basket. He pulled the blinds closed and plopped down face-first onto his bed. Blaine rolled over onto his back, and then an almost tangible terror set in. He closed his eyes, imagining how it might be, entering a new environment filled with strangers and strange faces, of people so entirely unlike himself. Just from the public encounters and from occasionally playing football against McKinley, Blaine knew that the unsavory feelings they harbor toward people who come from where he lives would undeniably cause him difficulties, when all he wanted was to get through high school as smoothly as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

It was that time of the year again, and the Lima Mall was crowded with parents and children of all ages, bustling about, rushing to and fro and in and out of stores to take advantage of back-to-school sales. As usual, Blaine had a tight budget, but he always made the best of it; he had a keen eye for bargains and would surely find himself a few nice outfits to add to his wardrobe for the new year.

Since she was headed to the mall to work, Blaine’s mom had dropped him and Sam off, and they’d met up with Santana and Puck with plans to keep each other company—and in check—while they shopped. Now they were at the food court, bags by their feet, resting and leaning on one of the small, round tables toward the center, situated in a perfect location for people watching.

Santana was rummaging through her handbag for some money to buy a soft pretzel, and Puck was transfixed by a group of girls waiting in line at the Chick-Fil-A. More specifically, he was transfixed by their asses covered by very tiny denim shorts that looked painted on, leaving very little to the imagination, especially the tantalizing bits that were hanging out.

While the other two were distracted and preoccupied, Sam turned to Blaine and gently nudged him in the arm. “Do you wanna split a sub? I’ve got a few bucks.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Blaine said, smiling at the offer. “Thank you. I’ll eat whatever you wanna get; I’m not picky.” He hadn’t really had food on his mind; he was mainly exhausted from all the walking they’d done. Now that Sam mentioned it, though, he felt his empty stomach growl.

Sam rose from his seat and left the table, making a beeline for the Subway counter where he knew they’d give him his employee discount. Blaine watched him go until his eyes were drawn to something else—two people who were approaching the place that sold the really good, organic smoothies. It was a boy and a girl who looked about Blaine’s age, standing close together and talking as if in their own little world.

What really caught Blaine’s eye was the boy, who was tall with long legs and torso, wide-shouldered, and dressed from head to toe in some of the most exquisite and eclectic clothing he had ever seen. His outfit looked expensive—from his knee-high leather combat boots to his— _jesus, did he paint those hot red shorts on?_ The way they hugged his butt...Blaine’s eyes were riveted to the boy’s back, and the loose, lightweight cloth of his shirt did nothing to hide.... He continued to look the boy up and down, admiring the courage it took to wear something like that out in public and how easily he managed to pull off the look. Like a model….Blaine wished he would turn around so he could see...From the back those shoulders promised he would be even more striking if he could just glimpse him as he turned...

Just then the boy turned to face his friend, and...he was _stunning_. Yes, _just_ like a model, although Blaine had never seen a model who looked quite like this boy, pale and lithe, kind of cherubic, his hair swept up in the front and frozen in place by product, as if it wouldn’t dare be even slightly out of place.

If Blaine were to jump to conclusions, he’d guess the girl was only a friend, and the boy was definitely gay and had no problem with flaunting it. Or perhaps that was Blaine’s mind, wishing and hoping as his eyes trailed downward again to his impossibly round, perky ass, flawlessly defined and accentuated by those shorts. He couldn’t help but hope he was a McKinley student, although he’d never seen him at any of the games when they played against each other...and Blaine was certain he would have noticed him.

Blaine had been so busy staring that he hadn’t noticed Santana leave the table or return until she snorted and began to laugh. He started and turned quickly to see what had prompted it, his attention returning, somewhat reluctantly, to his friends.

“Haven’t had enough window shopping for today?” she said, tearing off a piece of her pretzel and popping it into her mouth. “I’d stay ‘way from merchandise your broke ass can’t ‘fford,” she managed while still chewing.

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Funny how you don’t say anything to Puck whose eyes have been glued to that blonde over there for the past ten minutes.”

“Wha—? What’d I do now?” Puck muttered with a small whine.

“We all know he’s a dirty thief, and morals don’t apply to him.”

“Says the girl who doesn’t care that it’s rude to talk with her mouth full,” Puck shot back, mimicking a blow job with his hand and tongue in cheek.

“Shut the fuck up,” Santana said, tearing off another piece of the pretzel and chucking it at Puck who threw up his arms to deflect it, laughing as it bounced off of him and fell to the floor.

Sam returned to the table, a bemused and slightly amused expression on his face. “I heard someone say ‘fuck’ or ‘Puck’... Either way, what did I miss?”

“Absolutely nothing, Sam,” Blaine said, watching Sam unwrap the sub and taking the half offered to him. “They’re just having a lovers’ quarrel again,” he said, smirking at Santana who lifted her middle finger at him.

They dug into their food, mouths too full and busy to carry on conversation. When they had finished, all four decided they'd had enough of the mall and quickly made plans to head elsewhere.

“I was thinking we could have ourselves an end-of-the-summer celebration, one last hurrah before some crazy shit goes down when we’re forced to join those richy-pants McKinley high kids who probably literally shit gold,” Santana said, which was met with a bout of laughter from the group. “My mom won’t be home all night, so whaddya say about heading to my house?”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said, followed quickly by affirmative nods and comments from Blaine and Puck.

Out in the parking lot, toting their new clothes, they all piled into Puck’s pickup truck and headed out of Lima and back toward Santana’s house where their party could commence. Santana’s mom was working an overnight shift at the diner in town, so the house was empty for the night, and none of them had a problem taking advantage of the opportunity the circumstances provided.

“There’s still some beer and half a bottle of vodka in my closet,” Santana explained, “so we’re good to go. I’ll be right back.” She hurried off and up the stairs while the others awaited her return with the goodies.

Puck collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the cushions and making himself at home as he so often did. Sam leaned up against the arm of the sofa, watching the stairwell until Santana came practically bouncing back down the steps, her footfalls light and swift. When she reached the bottom, she shoved the six-pack of Budweiser into Blaine’s hands and cradled the bottle of vodka as she made her way toward the couch.

“You have anything to mix that with?” Sam asked, pointing to the bottle.

“Nah, I was just going to chug it,” Santana said, and Sam and Blaine both grimaced at the thought, realizing she was completely serious.

“I’m sorry, we civilized people have taste buds—and enough self-respect to not drink that stuff straight,” Blaine said. “I guess I’ll just stick with the beer.”

“Same,” Sam agreed, grabbing one of the cans and pulling it free from the plastic rings.

“It’s not that bad.” Puck snatched the bottle from Santana and took a swig directly from it.

Sam popped the tab on his beer. “Who’re you trying to kid? That stuff tastes like shit and burns like hell.” He took a sip. It was warm, and he made a face as it went down. “And this stuff ain’t much better.”

Santana swallowed a mouthful of the liquor. “Quit your whining. Beggars can’t be choosers, especially when none of us has a fake ID. Besides, Puck’s been doing us the great service of breaking into his mom’s stash to get what we have.”

Blaine brought the can to his lips and drank deeply, finishing off nearly half in one shot. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever tasted, and he was already beginning to feel warm inside and a little buzzed.

They continued to drink, Blaine and Sam both cracking open another can and another, finishing them off, while Puck and Santana passed the vodka back and forth. As the bottle moved between them, Santana and Puck moved closer and closer until Santana was in Puck’s lap, and they were practically drinking from the bottle simultaneously, mouths very close now. Before they knew it, Santana was sucking Puck’s face, drunkenly and sloppily, and it was not a pleasant sight.

Blaine turned away, shielding his eyes with his hand. “That’s so gross. Do you mind?”

Sam began to chuckle, shaking his head, and Blaine, finding it strangely contagious, joined in, his whole body beginning to shake from laughter. Although he’d prefer to not have to see it, Blaine and the guys had grown accustomed to Santana being loose when drunk and prone to making out with whoever was a willing party.

Blaine crushed the now empty can in his hand and tossed it into the recycling bin.

“It’s warm in here,” Puck said when Santana gave him a moment to breathe.

“Let’s get out of the house then.” Blaine was glad that Puck had left it open for the suggestion.

“I second that,” Sam said, already moving toward the front door.

Santana watched them, half listening, her eyes unfocused and head swimming, and then Puck pulled her up off the couch, and they headed out the door to the street.

They walked a few blocks, stumbling along a bit, Puck supporting Santana when necessary. They had no real destination in mind, but whenever they wandered, they tended to end up at the same place, a nice little secluded spot by the lake. They’d discovered the spot last summer and claimed it as their own; it was shrouded by trees, and tonight the moonlight shone through the branches and hit the water, lighting it up in spots. There also was a cool breeze coming off the dark, rippling surface of the lake, a welcome reprieve from the sweltering late-summer heat.

Puck picked up a stone and chucked it into the water, where it kerplunked and sank to the bottom. He turned back toward the group, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Can you believe they pushed back the start of school two whole weeks?”

“I know. It’s awesome!” Sam held his hand up like he had to count on his fingers. “That’s, like, almost another whole month of summer.”

Blaine’s brow furrowed. “No, it’s not.”

“Who asked you?” Santana shot at Blaine and then, with careful deliberation, she gracefully dropped onto the grass and faced the lake.

“Whatever,” Blaine muttered, not interested in getting into it with her.

“They need that time to prepare for us,” Puck said.

Santana turned her face toward Puck, smirking. “Or at least for you.”

“No, guys, I’m serious.” Puck scanned the ground, bending to lift up another stone, keeping it enclosed in his fist. “They’re just going to cram us all in together, and it’s gonna stink.”

“Literally,” Santana interjected. “Get used to looking at the underside of people’s nostrils from all the upturned noses.” She lifted her chin and pursed her lips, imitating snooty behavior.

“I’m just worried about how it’s gonna be, entering a new school,” Blaine said, his gaze dropping to his shoes. “McKinley is a big school, compared to Lima Heights, anyway.”

“It’s not _that_ big,” Puck said.

“That’s what she said,” Santana jested pointedly, leaning back with a shit-eating grin.

Sam snickered. Puck dropped the stone and blinked, unamused.

Blaine reined them back in. “Think of all the things that are gonna change. We probably won’t get to play football this year. Classes won’t be the same at all, and what about the teachers? Everything’s going to be different, and we even have to take a bus to school now.”

“Not gonna lie, I definitely think it’s gonna suck,” Puck said, “but, I mean, at least we’ll be that much closer to their cheerleaders.” He waggled his eyebrows, miming slapping an ass and squeezing, and laughed.

Santana clambered to her feet and glared daggers at him, crossing her arms and huffing.

Sam shrugged. “I’m used to it, moving around a lot and transferring schools. It won’t be as bad as y’all thi—” But his sentence was cut off suddenly as he doubled over and began to heave. He took a few lumbering steps and then puked into a bush, a bit of vomit splashing onto his shoes.

Santana burst into a fit of laughter, waving her hand in front of her nose. “Well, that’s all, folks. We had a good run this summer, and I’m ready to call it a night. God, it’s a good thing we didn’t stay at my house. What did you eat today?” Her face twisted in disgust.  

Sam stayed there, taking deep breaths until he knew it was all out, and then he wiped at his mouth with the back of his wrist, looking sheepish as he rejoined the group.

Blaine gave Sam a sympathetic look. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home, Sam,” he said, gently grabbing his arm.

“Thanks, man.”

They departed, leaving the lake behind and, in a sense, their summer vacation, marking the end of not only their relative freedom, but of what had become their normal—a sense of comfort and stability while safely contained and in control in their own stomping grounds. Now they’d practically be aliens invading the territory of an entirely different species, a species with much bigger armaments. As much as they could claim to be coming in peace, chances were they’d be seen as a threat or a nuisance, and as soon as they were, they’d be walking through hell.

Eventually the friends reached the point where they split off, Sam and Blaine heading in one direction, and Puck and Santana in the other—all of them quietly pondering what the next few weeks would bring. 


	3. Chapter 3

The delayed start of the school year hadn’t felt like much of an extended break. Blaine spent most of the time anxiously preparing and scrambling to make sure he had everything he needed for his classes, learning his schedule, where and when to catch his bus, and a plethora of other important details to at least get him through his first day. It was especially difficult when he had to wait around the house for his mom to get home from work or to finish with her Mary Kay orders so she could help him get certain things done. There was an hour-long orientation at McKinley for the Lima Heights kids. He and his mom attended together, but as soon as it was over, Blaine felt even more disoriented, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as his mind raced, chock-full of all the new information that only served to feed his anxieties.

Needless to say, he hadn’t seen much of Sam or Santana or Puck because they had been just as busy. So when the bus door opened to admit him, Blaine climbed the dusty steps and looked around a bit frantically until he spotted Sam, beaming up at him from a seat toward the center, and relief flooded through him. He hurried down the aisle, let his backpack strap slip from his shoulder and into his hand, and slid into the seat next to his best friend. At least for that moment, he felt a little more at ease.

The bus pulled up in the lineup outside the school, and students filed out, hopping down onto the blacktop of the parking lot. Almost immediately, they could feel dozens of eyes on them, and Blaine and Sam stuck together, keeping their heads down as they made their way through the crowds toward the student entrances. Because of the last-minute arrangements, one hall was designated for the Lima Heights transfer students’ lockers, which would all be shared, while some McKinley students lost theirs and were now being forced to share with their peers.

Navigating the halls was a total nightmare. Despite McKinley being relatively large, the halls were stuffy and overcrowded, and it was damn near impossible to get from point A to point B without knocking elbows and shoulders and stepping on people’s feet, let alone seeing past all the heads in order to locate point B. They had no choice but to endure it, and Blaine could already hear the disgruntled comments and whispered complaints about the Lima Heights kids crawling the halls ‘like cockroaches’ and taking away their lockers and space.

The few dirty looks that were thrown his way, Blaine managed to brush off, but they did nothing to help him feel even an ounce of welcome or change his mind about these strangers or quell his anxiety about coming here.

He ducked his head again, attempting to avoid eye contact as he made his way to his homeroom, but was nearly bowled over a moment later. A large pair of strong hands caught him just before he completely lost his balance and set him upright again.

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, still keeping his gaze low, but when he recognized the distinct boots on the boy’s feet, he lifted his head, his eyes locking with those of the boy he’d been checking out at the mall. Blaine felt his face grow hot as he stared, captivated by his pale, flawless skin and brilliant blue eyes. When he realized his mouth had fallen slightly agape, he snapped it shut and dropped his gaze again.

The boy absentmindedly reached out and touched Blaine again, smoothing out his t-shirt around his shoulders, and Blaine jerked away, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “What’re you doing?”

“Shit, sorry! It’s just a habit. I feel so bad.” He slowly, nervously held his hand out and offered Blaine a small smile. “My name’s Kurt.”

Blaine hesitated, the gesture a little foreign to him, and then he took his hand. “Blaine.”

Someone knocked into Blaine’s arm, and their hands dropped back down, but Kurt still stood there in Blaine’s way, looking as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out.

“Can I help you get to your homeroom?” he finally spoke, craning his neck in attempt to get a glimpse of Blaine’s schedule in his hand.

“No, it’s fine. I got it,” Blaine said, trying to shake him off. He just wanted this awkward encounter to end and to not start the year off by being late.

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_ , I’m _sure_!” Blaine had unintentionally raised his voice, his nerves and frustration getting the best of him, and he immediately regretted it when he saw the look of hurt and offense on Kurt’s face.

“Alright, then,” he said simply, and then he took off, slipping between people and disappearing into the crowd.

Blaine made it to his homeroom just as the first bell was ringing, and the teacher directed him to the only remaining seat. The classroom, although fairly spacious, was filled and every single desk occupied. There had to be more than thirty students in there, with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, and he was sure that it would be much of the same in the rest of his classes.

He took a deep breath, slumped down in his seat and waited, listening for his name to be called for attendance.

“Blaine Anderson.”

“Here.” It felt a little like a death knell.

-s-

Wearing a perturbed expression, Kurt slid into the desk next to Mercedes. He leaned in toward her, lightly laying his hand on her arm.

“Thank god we’re still in the same homeroom,” he hissed under his breath, just loud enough for her to catch.

Mercedes turned her head with a nod and a smile, which fell away when she saw Kurt’s face. “You look a little upset. What’s got your goat?”

“Not upset, just...confused,” he said. “I ran into this kid in the hall, one of the Lima Heights kids, and he didn’t seem all that friendly. I offered to show him to homeroom, and he snapped at me.” Kurt moved in closer, his voice at a very low whisper now. “I hope they don’t all have attitudes, like there’s some chip on their shoulder.”

“You know how it is, Kurt. They’re not from a good neighborhood.”

“That doesn’t mean they have to be rude.” He looked quickly around to make sure he wasn’t being overheard. “This year is going to be so weird.”

“I know.”

“Kurt Hummel?”

He snapped his head up, lifted his hand in the air, and gave a tiny wave of his fingers. “Right here!”

-s-

At the end of the day there were numerous announcements that boomed through the intercom, echoing throughout the school. One in particular piqued Blaine's interest and led him to the hallway by the main office, where there was a large bulletin board filled with flyers and signup sheets for extracurriculars.

With just one glance, Blaine was already overwhelmed by the number of clubs, activities, and sports that were offered at McKinley. And when he really focused, reading the names of some of them, he had to suppress the urge to laugh, amused and amazed by the variety and just how many silly things they had created clubs for. None of this existed at Lima Heights, and he wondered how they even had the staff or enough people interested in this stuff to supervise it all.

His eyes had just briefly fixed on a signup sheet near the center that read “New Directions” when a voice sounded right behind him, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“I saw you eyeing the signup sheet for the glee club! Are you interested in joining? It’s a wonderful and talented group!” The words came rapidly and insistently, making him feel almost ambushed.

Blaine turned and took in a petite brunette, a few inches shorter than himself, standing way too close for comfort. She had this crazy look in her eye and a too-perfect, too-straight, too-white, maniacal grin on her face. His eyes grew wide, and he began to quickly shake his head. “No. I was looking at something else—football,” he added, taking a step back, hoping that would get her to leave him alone.

She took a step toward him, filling the space he’d tried to create. “The quarterback of our football team is in the glee club, and I think you should really give it a chance! We could really use people like you!”

“People like me?” Blaine said skeptically, narrowing his eyes.

“That’s not what I—what I meant to say is, glee club is a place where jocks can fit in, too!”

Blaine wondered if this girl was out of her mind. Of all the names he’d been called in his life, he’d never been called a “jock” before, like some lame teen drama stereotype.

“I don’t even sing.”

“That doesn't matter! Anyone can learn, and everyone is welcome!”

Blaine kept trying to get her to back off, but no matter how many times or ways he told her no, she continued to hound him. Her relentless persistence was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, especially from a perfect stranger, and he needed to get out of there.

Finally he blurted, “No offense, but you’re irritating, and I need to go and catch my bus.”

The girl finally backed off, growing quiet and watching as Blaine turned on his heel and walked away.

Blaine pushed past the doors and into the sunlight, suddenly feeling much better, as if he could breathe again after such a taxing, crazy day. He jogged to the bus, climbed aboard, and joined Sam in their same seats from that morning.

“Hey, where’ve you been?” Sam asked. “I was afraid you were gonna miss the bus.”

“I stopped by the bulletin board to check out the clubs and activities, and this really creepy girl came up behind me and tried to get me to join glee club, whatever that is.”

“Creepy?”

“She was bossy and pushy and wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she was, like, practically breathing down my neck!” Blaine shivered. “Then she said they could use ‘people like me’.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I know, right? That’s what I wanted to know, and then she called me a ‘jock’!”

“Sounds like a _joke_ , if you ask me. I swear, these McKinley jerks are on something.”

“They’re just as awful as I imagined they’d be—I heard some of them call us ‘cockroaches’ this morning. Then some kid bumped into me and started touching my clothes, and in math class some jackass threw an eraser at the back of my head!”

Blaine thought about how out of place he felt, and he’d only felt worse as the day went on. Even the way he and the Lima Heights kids were dressed was so much different than the McKinley kids, who seemed like they had to have someone’s name or label displayed on every piece of clothing. Meanwhile, Blaine had been dressed comfortably in a fitted t-shirt and Levi’s denim shorts, and he knew they were judging him for it.

“You think that’s bad? I have Spanish class with Santana, and one of these assholes yelled across the room, ‘Hey, why are _you_ in here, mamacita? You should already know Spanish!’”

“What the hell?” Blaine was horrified by the blatant racism shown toward his friend.

“Yeah, and you can imagine how Santana went off.”

Blaine's eyes grew wide. “Oh, you bet I can.”

“And the teacher, Mr. Schuester, I think, had no idea what to do and just stood there and let it happen.”  

“How ignorant can a person get?!”

“I guess when you have money, you think you can go around saying whatever you want and stepping all over people. Lima kids are stuck up, and they’re bullies.”

“It’s crazy though, how quickly the fighting started. We couldn’t even make it through one day.”

“Yeah,” Sam said with a sigh, “and it’s only bound to get worse.”

Blaine and Sam were quiet, pensive, and a little morose during the rest of the ride home, and each felt a little lonely when they reached their separate stops.

During the walk from the bus stop to his front door, all Blaine could think about was how he hoped Sam wasn’t right about their time at McKinley inevitably getting worse. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to tell his mom how his first day had gone; he didn’t want to upset her when she already had so many other things on her plate.

“How did it go?” Pam said as soon as he crossed the threshold. She wore a hopeful smile, and Blaine wanted nothing more than to see his mom smile.

“It was great,” he lied, forcing a smile of his own.

“Oh, I’m so happy! I was worried about you.” Pam’s eyes were shining like she was holding back tears.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I’ll be okay.”

After a quick hug, Blaine grabbed a snack from the kitchen, took it to his bedroom and shut himself in for the night.

When Pam knocked lightly on his door a little later on, carrying a sandwich on a plate in her hand, Blaine reluctantly let her in and accepted the food, but his stomach was upset and he had no desire to eat. He still thanked her, knowing she only meant well. His mom sat down on the bed beside him for a moment, gently carded her fingers through his hair as she watched him take the first forced bite, and then rose to her feet to leave him be again.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt carefully stacked the literature text books on the shelf, clearing the last few that had been left on desktops by students in the final period of the day. He brushed his palms together and pivoted in place, looking at the woman who was hunched over a laptop, her face screwed up in concentration and long, golden blonde hair, cascading down and partially concealing her face. 

Kurt had noticed how flustered most of the teachers were, trying to accommodate more students, cope with much larger class sizes, and share rooms and workspaces, so he had decided to stay after school to help some of his favorite teachers, easing their burden as much as possible by helping with tasks like making copies or cleaning up around the classroom.

“Ms. Holliday,” Kurt spoke softly to avoid startling her. “Is there anything else you’d like my help with?”

She looked up, smiling brightly when their eyes met. “Thank you, Kurt. No, I think that’s all for today. The rest of what I have to do is strictly boring teacher stuff, which you unfortunately can't help me with.”

“I was hoping we could talk about the plans for the literary magazine this year, but I realize how overwhelming it must be now that the Lima Heights kids are here.”

Ms. Holliday let out a heavy sigh as she gently closed the laptop. She rose from her chair, stretched, and then walked around to the front of the desk and leaned back against it. “It’s been stressful, trying to adapt to all the changes and getting to know all the new students, but it’s manageable. It’s how things are in education, Kurt. Things change every year, big things, little things, and we learn and we change with them.”

“But, I mean, it’s different. They’re not exactly the easiest people to deal with,” Kurt said.

Ms. Holliday suddenly appeared very concerned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t they cause you more problems than your McKinley students?”

“Kurt,” she began, taking a moment to choose her words carefully, “every single student I teach is my student, no matter where they come from. And where they come from makes them no less capable of learning or behaving in a respectful manner. I always saw you as a very open-minded and understanding young man, especially when it came to seeing people as people and not as stereotypes or labels placed on them by someone else.”

“I...I didn’t mean,” he paused, a little disconcerted by his teacher’s comment. “It’s just that it’s been rough getting used to new people and being forced together in such tight quarters, and I’ve tried to talk to a few people, but a lot of them seem to have an attitude or just don’t want to talk to me.”

“You have to understand that this is harder for them than it is for you. The kids from Lima Heights lost their high school to a fire, and that’s traumatic for many of them. They don’t have a school to go to, so they have no choice but to come here. They’re scared, Kurt. Wouldn’t you be?”

Kurt swallowed, nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

“So maybe you’re misinterpreting their behavior and not looking at the big picture. Try not being so quick to pass judgment. It’s only been, what, two weeks? Give it some time so they can settle in. Don’t push, but really get to know them for who they are,” Ms. Holliday said, tilting her head and watching Kurt’s eyes to see if he truly understood.

He’d grown quiet, really turning her words over in his head, considering the full weight and significance of them. Since the first day of school, his encounter with Blaine had been playing on repeat in his head, and he couldn’t for the life of him, no matter how much he analyzed it, figure out what he’d done wrong to receive the response he had. He’d only been trying to be nice and had nearly gotten his head bitten off as a result. The rejection had hurt, but he suddenly realized he’d been trying to convince himself that Blaine was a jerk, some low-life delinquent, because he needed an excuse for why he wasn’t getting what he wanted—although, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t quite sure just what that was. He filed that thought away for now, though, as something else occurred to him.

Kurt looked back up at Ms. Holliday. “You’re right. They’ve lost something important, a place that was their very own, and it must be hard to be without a place to belong. But I think there’s a silver lining. With the large influx of students, we may be able to recruit people to build up New Directions. It gave me a place to belong when I was struggling, and it could be that for some of those students, too. Not to mention, with the proper number of members, we might finally qualify for competitions.”

Ms. Holliday began to nod, surprised, but nonetheless proud of Kurt for reaching such a conclusion. “That’s a wonderful thought and a great way to view the situation. Lemonade from lemons? Or an omelette...you just need to crack the eggs first, so to speak, to find the golden treasure hidden inside.”

She stopped, catching herself and the reference she made, and was momentarily distracted by a costume idea for the next time she teaches _The Hobbit_ , complete with Gollum riddles and impression.

Kurt watched his teacher get lost in thought, and then he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He jumped at the sensation, fishing it out to see who was texting him. It was his dad, and, seeing the time, he knew he needed to get home. He pulled his car keys from his messenger bag, said goodbye to Ms. Holliday, and made his way to the student lot, where he climbed into his SUV to head home for dinner.

-s-

Blaine threw another punch at the bag, sending it swinging, really working up a sweat now. He’d been at it for close to an hour, doing everything he could to vent his frustrations, the rhythm of his punches helping dull his mind. It felt good, pushing himself nearly to the point of exhaustion, the exertion almost completely draining his body of energy. But he fought through it, bent on continuing until all the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back were no longer burning, and his body was numb.

The football players had been out on the field for practice and were due back in the locker room soon, and he’d been hesitant to even risk coming in here to begin with. During the course of the week, he’d scoped out the locker room and the weight room during gym class, and when Blaine knew it would be empty, he snuck in with his gym bag, wrapped his hands, pulled on his gloves, and let himself go at it. 

He stopped for a moment to wipe at the sweat on his forehead. As he reached for the hand towel he kept nearby, he came face-to-face with one of the Titans. He hadn’t heard them coming back inside, but a few more of the players began to enter and fill the locker room, most of them looking over his way.

“You’re one of those stupid blackbirds,” the boy said, crossing his arms and wearing a dumb, smug smirk.

“Ravens,” Blaine corrected, tossing the towel down and immediately slamming his fist into the bag again.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter. You all look fucking gay in your purple uniforms.”

Another, much heavier boy, who looked like his arms were so big he couldn’t move them, waddled over, unable to resist the urge to join in.

“Hey, I recognize you,” he said, pointing and waving his hand around. “You’re one of their running backs. Tell me, how does your team even practice? Heights is like the ghetto, man. You play on the streets? No wonder we always whup your ass.”

“You don’t belong here,” the other spat. “Shit, you’re like a midget. They must really be strapped for talent in the ghetto to let you on their team.”

“Aw, he’s just a little guy, as threatening as an angry puppy.”

“I’d back off if I were you,” Blaine said through gritted teeth, his voice dropping to a sinister growl. He nailed the bag with a quick one-two. “You know what happens in Lima Heights? You wanna know what happens in the ‘ghetto’? Things you can’t imagine. Things you’d never survive to talk about. You ever been in a fight club? Well, I _started_ a fight club, which, I obviously can’t talk about.” He slammed his fist into the bag again, the impact resounding off the walls.

The first player’s tone changed, becoming less belligerent, even somewhat hesitant. “What’re you doing in our locker room anyway? Just ‘cause you’re here right now, doesn’t mean you’re one of us. You trying to get on our team or something?”

Blaine rolled his eyes and turned, tugging off his gloves this time. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” He began to unwrap his hands now, massaging his sore knuckles. “I wouldn’t want to try out for _your_ team, and I wouldn't be caught dead wearing one of those hideous red jerseys.”

“ _Oh_ , did you hear him?” the one said, smacking the other boy’s arm and laughing as if Blaine had just told a joke.

“Well, good,” the boy said, thrusting his head and chest forward in an attempt at intimidation. “You’re too small to be a Titan. We’d squash you like a little bug. And, besides, you’d look like shit in our colors.”

Blaine had had enough, and his temper would have been flaring if he hadn’t just taken it all out on the bag. So, feeling defeated but glaring at his tormentors, he grabbed his stuff, packed up his bag, and headed out of the locker room and towards the main entrance of the school to wait for his ride.

He could play tough and put up a front when he had to, but in reality, Blaine was terrified. Those guys were relentless, and they were really testing him, wanting him to go off and prove them right about him being trash and a troublemaker. As he stood there on the front walk waiting for his mom to pull up, Blaine chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the fight club line he had fed them. He’d only hoped it would scare them away, and it sort of worked. His mood swiftly changed again to one of melancholy, hearing the boys’ nasty comments replaying in his head. Sure, they’d hurt his feelings with their remarks, but what cut the deepest was the ugly reminder that McKinley was not his school, and even though he was forced to attend here, he would never _belong_ here. 

His mom’s Honda pulled up, and Pam rolled the window down to wave to Blaine. When he climbed into the passenger seat, Pam could see that Blaine was close to tears. She knew he’d been bottling everything up the past couple weeks and, rather than driving off right away, waited to see if he’d finally talk.

“It’s not fair, Mom,” he croaked out, a tear breaking free and coursing down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. “There were these football players in the locker room telling me how I don’t belong here and picking on me about how I look. All I wanted was some time to myself to punch the bag and forget about everything, but those guys wouldn’t lay off me.”

“I’m so sorry, Blaine,” Pam said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. She pressed a kiss to his temple. “People can be cruel. Nothing they said is true, you know. You belong here just as much as they do.”

“But it’s been so awful here, everything has. I only have one class with Sam. People keep getting into fights over everything, the McKinley kids keep pushing us around and calling us names, and the teachers don’t do anything about it. It was never like this at Lima Heights. The other day, Santana was sent to the guidance counselor after getting into a fight, and she _sanitized her hands_ after shaking Santana’s.”

“Don’t listen to them. They say and do things out of ignorance,” Pam said.

“But they’re right. I _can’t_ be on a team anymore. I can’t play football, and I wouldn’t wanna play with those jerks, anyway. I feel so out of place. It’s just...it’s not fair, and it sucks.”

“Well, maybe that’s what you need, honey,” she said as she put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot.

Blaine sniffled. “What?”

“You may not be able to play football, but you could find another activity, just something temporary, so you can feel a little more like part of the school. In a big school like McKinley, I’m sure not all the kids are like those football players. You could make a few friends at the school. It’ll be good for you. Can you do that, for me, Blaine?”

“I did check out the clubs and all, but I...I just don’t know.”

“Maybe you can get Sam to join something with you?” Pam suggested, hoping that might make Blaine feel more comfortable with the idea.

“Maybe,” Blaine said quietly, trying to think it through. He knew that it wasn’t such a bad idea, although Sam’s work schedule might not allow for it. And, even if he had some doubts, it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.


	5. Chapter 5

Since the talk with his mom, Blaine had been by the activities bulletin board a few times, but he still couldn’t muster up the courage to press pen to paper and make a commitment to anything. Even though he rode with Sam on the bus and saw him every day in his science class, they hadn’t really discussed his mom’s suggestion, and Blaine still felt lost and overwhelmed.

Sam wasn’t on the bus this morning. He had texted Blaine that he had to stay home and take care of his younger brother, who was sick, while his parents were out looking for work. So Blaine spent the duration of the morning bus ride sitting by himself, staring out the window and silently watching the town roll by, noticing the shift as they crossed the Lima Heights border into Lima. The houses were farther apart, they had yards, they were bigger, nicer, newer. The businesses and storefronts looked cleaner and more reputable, and when they reached the school, Blaine looked out at the imposing brick and stone building, which at least gave an outward appearance of high standards and a quality education.

He hopped off the bus and started his usual trek toward the doors that led to the Lima Heights’ hallway when he heard a cry of distress. He looked over just in time to witness some football players lifting a boy and tossing him into a dumpster. The Titans laughed and cleared out as if what they’d done was just as routine and normal as a cup of coffee in the morning, something to kickstart their day. It hit Blaine hard, even viscerally, and with his stomach twisting and his jaw clenched, he rushed toward the dumpster.

He hated them. Blaine hated them for how they characterized and stereotyped him and his friends as if they were delinquents from the wrong side of the tracks. They were cruel and the worst kind of people—self-important, entitled bullies with no common decency and who treated him and his friends like scum.

When he reached the dumpster, he gripped the edge and peered down into it, expecting to see one of his fellow Ravens. Instead, he was shocked to see that it wasn’t a Lima Heights kid they’d been bullying, but a very familiar face that he’d tried to forget since that first day.

“Hey,” Kurt said weakly, struggling to pull himself up out of the mounds of garbage.

Recovering quickly, Blaine reached into the dumpster to offer the boy a hand. Kurt took hold and, using Blaine as leverage, managed to climb over the side of the dumpster, dropping down onto the blacktop. He straightened up and, looking himself over, grimaced, trying to smooth out his clothing and brushing off the worst of the garbage.

He looked up, locking eyes with Blaine, and his expression softened. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Are you all right?” Blaine finally spoke, giving him a once over. He couldn’t help but notice what Kurt was wearing today: a long, black and gray sweater that fell almost to his knees and a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, tucked into his signature boots. The boy bent over to retrieve a hat that looked like a hunting cap from the ground by the dumpster.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just...gross.” Kurt brushed off his pants, picking off what appeared to be some type of fruit rind.

“They could’ve really hurt you.”

“I’m used to it, unfortunately. Being the only gay kid who’s out at McKinley, and because I refuse to try to blend in, I guess I’m just an easy target,” Kurt said with a small shrug.

Blaine froze at the statement, although he wasn’t completely surprised to hear Kurt admit that. There was something Kurt was wrong about, though, and Blaine felt the need to correct him.

“Not the only one,” Blaine said.

“Huh?”

“You’re not the only out gay kid at McKinley, at least, not now.”

“How do you know that?” Kurt asked, intrigued.

“I’m gay,” he said, “and I know of at least one other Lima Heights student who probably isn’t exactly straight and probably will be open about it, but it’s not my place to say anything, of course.”

Kurt’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. “Are...your friends are okay with that, with you being gay?”

“They like to tease me, sure, but no one at my old school ever bothered me about it. They all have their own lives and issues, and people tend to mind their own business and not come at each other—unless of course, someone thinks someone’s trying to steal their girlfriend or boyfriend. In fact, I think being gay actually helps me there because the guys don’t see me as a threat since I won’t go after their girls.”

Kurt started to laugh at that comment, and then he composed himself, not wanting to offend Blaine. “It’s Blaine, right?”

Blaine nodded. “And you’re Kurt.”

“You have a good memory.” Kurt smiled and just stared for a moment. “I wonder why we don’t have any classes together. I haven’t really seen you around much, not since that, uh, that first day.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been placed in all the intermediate classes by default. There aren’t any advanced or AP classes offered at Lima Heights except for two, but only for seniors, so I guess they just put us where they could.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, pulling his phone out and glancing at the time. “Shit. We’re late to homeroom.”

“I’d be more upset about that, but I’m just glad that you’re okay. I can’t stand those assholes on the football team.”

“They’re not _all_ bad, but we need to go in now. I’ll see you around...?” Kurt said, hope shining in his eyes. 

“Yeah, see you around,” Blaine replied as they entered the school and headed towards different sections of the building to start their day.

-s-

Kurt rolled over for the umpteenth time, pulling the blankets and sheets with him, until he was tangled up in a mess of fabric, still unable to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. He’d gone to bed two hours ago, but his overactive brain and an onslaught of thoughts kept him awake. He kept thinking about the dumpster incident, how Blaine had helped him, and what Ms. Holliday had said. Kurt wanted to reach out to Blaine in some way, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. He was beginning to think he’d never get to sleep the way the thoughts kept churning and cycling. Even when he tried closing his eyes and counting backwards by fives...and then twos...and....

He emitted an exasperated huff and then sighed audibly.  

“I can’t sleep either,” Finn groaned from the other side of the bedroom they shared in the converted basement.

“I didn’t know you were still awake,” Kurt said, feeling a bit guilty about disturbing his stepbrother.

“I think I ate something bad at lunch, and now my stomach’s killing me, but I can’t poop.”

“Thanks for sharing, Finn,” Kurt said, wrinkling his nose in the dark.

“So what’s keeping you up?” Finn asked, sitting up in his bed now. He rolled his head, cracking his neck. Kurt could hear it across the room and winced at the sound.

“I can’t stop thinking about the Lima Heights kids,” Kurt explained, as he gave up lying down and shifted up to lean back against his headboard. “I met this one guy named Blaine, and he seems nice, but I don’t know how to reach out to him.”

“Oh, you’ve met Blaine? He’s a pretty cool guy. Haven’t really talked to him much, though.”

“How do you know who he is?”

“He sometimes hangs out in the weight room after school. The guy’s got a mean right hook. He’s small, but I wouldn’t fuck with him. He’s also a buddy of Noah Puckerman, one of the Heights kids I have gym class with. I guess Puck and I are kinda friendly now. They were both on the Lima Heights football team, too, so I’ve seen them before.”

Kurt had no idea and would never have guessed that Blaine was into sports, and he had no clue what Finn meant by the right hook comment. All he could think about was how small Blaine was compared to the boys on the McKinley team. _A gay football player_ , Kurt mused. If others knew, especially some of the guys on the team, he’d be in for a bad beating and an abundance of torment. He kept the knowledge of Blaine being gay to himself, though, because he didn’t think it was his place to mention it.

“They can’t play this year, though, right?” Kurt said.

“You know, I don’t think they want to, but they could try out if they wanted to. After talking to Puckerman, I think they just need something of their own while at McKinley.”

Kurt knew Finn occasionally had moments of his own odd spurts of wisdom, and this seemed to be one of those times. He was making sense.

“It’s funny you should say that...because I’ve been thinking about how great it would be if we could get a few people from Lima Heights to join show choir.”

Finn burst into a fit of laughter and exclaimed, “Good luck with that!”

“Why?” Kurt said, turning surly and crossing his arms.

“Because I’m not so sure they’ll care about something like that.”

“But _you’re_ in glee club,” Kurt reasoned.

“Yeah, and the only reason I joined is because...” he paused, remembering back to that horrible first conversation with Mr. Schue and deciding to opt for another angle, “because of Rachel, y’know?”

“Who’s to say I can’t tempt Blaine to join for a similar reason?” Kurt said, smirking.

“Hey, maybe you can. I mean, we have Quinn and Brittany, and the boys from the Heights do seem to like our cheerleaders,” Finn said through a yawn. He slumped back down in his bed, pulling the covers up around his chest and shoulders.

Kurt laughed, sliding back down and rolling over in his bed again, feeling more at ease now and a bit more determined. With his new knowledge of Blaine’s interests and the spots where he hangs out in the school and taking into account what Finn had said, Kurt went to work devising a plan to recruit Blaine. Even if his own intentions were admittedly somewhat selfish, he just had this feeling that it would work, and it could truly be something good for Blaine. And what could it hurt if getting Blaine to join glee club proved to be beneficial in more ways than one?

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey, there,” came a soft, lilting voice from the doorway, and Blaine looked up from the free weights he was curling, halting when he saw Kurt standing there. He carefully set them down and rose to his feet, stretching while staring curiously at Kurt.

“What brings you in here?” Blaine said, relieved to see a boy with a friendly face rather than some idiot looking to pick a fight. “You don’t strike me as the type that likes to break a sweat.”

“And you’d be correct with that assumption.” Kurt strolled over towards Blaine, hands behind his back, an expression on his face that suggested he was up to something.

“Were you looking for me?” Blaine said.

“I was, and, thanks to my stepbrother, I knew exactly where to find you.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know who your stepbrother is, but alright. You have my attention. So what do you need?”

Although he had planned what he was going to say, Kurt hesitated. “I have a proposition. Have you ever considered being a part of a musical group, like...a show choir, perhaps?”

Blaine placed his hands on his hips and shook his head, his chest beginning to rumble with laughter. “Is this because I told you I was gay?”

“What?! No, not at all,” Kurt quickly replied. “I’m offended that you would even think that. I’m asking because I happen to be a part of our school’s show choir. It’s called New Directions, and I thought you might be interested in joining.”

“Is this the same glee club some creepy girl harassed me about on the first day of school?”

“Wait, what? Are you talking about Rachel? Crap. I didn’t know she’d bothered you about it already.”

“Rachel, or whoever, was very,” he paused to carefully choose the adjective, “abrasive and, to be honest, it sorta scared me away from even entertaining the thought of joining.”

“But _were_ you thinking about it?” Kurt asked, his eyes lighting up.

Blaine let out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair, his hand coming to rest at the back of his neck. “Look, Kurt, I’ll be honest with you because you’ve been honest with me. I’ve always really enjoyed music and singing, but I haven’t done it past junior high school. There weren’t any performing arts clubs at Lima Heights, so I got into football, and that was that.”

Kurt’s hope returned full-fledged. “So...is that a yes?”

Pam’s words echoed in Blaine’s head, and, swayed by the boy’s charm, he made a split-second decision. “You know what? Yes. Why not? I’ll give it a shot.”

“ _Yes_!” Kurt squealed, jumping in his excitement.

Kurt was so happy he could have hugged Blaine, but that would have made things extremely awkward, and he’d been trying to redeem himself since their first encounter, not relive it. Instead he took a few steps backward and said, “We meet every Tuesday and Thursday after school!” and then turned around, leaving the weight room with a spring in his step.

Blaine watched Kurt leave, his eyes raking his body and fixing on that ass until Kurt turned the corner. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt indescribably happy in that moment. Not only had Kurt sought him out, but he wanted to talk to him and wanted him to be a part of something that he belonged to. Blaine was just standing there, smiling to himself, when his phone went off, stirring him from his daze.

Seeing it was a text message from Sam, Blaine opened it immediately.

**Sam**

_r u still coming over?_

Blaine quickly texted back ‘yes’ and slid his phone back into his pocket. It was one of Sam’s days off from work, and they’d made plans to play some video games, even though this time Blaine was mostly expecting to sit back and watch Sam play the Star Wars RPG he’d recently gotten his hands on. After gathering his things, Blaine left the school just in time to catch the late bus back home.

When he arrived at Sam’s apartment, he heard screaming coming from within, and he wasn’t sure if he should turn around and go home or knock anyway. Reasoning that he already was kind of committed, he knocked, and an exasperated Sam almost immediately pulled open the door.

“Blaine, thank god you’re here! Stevie and Stacey won’t stop fighting, and I mean like, kicking, biting, and screaming, and I can’t get them off each other—I need reinforcements!”

Blaine entered the apartment, following Sam toward where his younger brother and sister were rolling around on the floor, and helped Sam pull them apart, Blaine grabbing Stevie and Sam hauling Stacey back.

“She ate my Tastykake!” Stevie yelled, tears streaming down his face, seething but secure in Blaine’s grip.

“Did not!”

“You two need to calm down!” Sam shouted. “If you calm down and behave for me, I’ll buy you both ice cream next time the truck comes around. Deal?”

“Fine,” Stevie whined, his face a full-on pout.

Stacey stuck her tongue out at her brother and grinned.

“Stacey, stop that. You’re not off the hook completely, so don’t push your luck,” Sam admonished. She looked at least a little chagrined, apparently realizing she might be doing just that.

Sam released his grip on his sister, and Blaine followed suit, relieved to see that they didn’t jump right at each other again like rabid dogs. Stevie moped all the way to the couch and threw himself into the cushions face-first while Stacey skipped off to the corner and snatched up one of her toys from the floor, instantly forgetting and busying herself with something new.

“Thanks so much! You totally saved me, man,” Sam said. “I’m really sorry that happened. I thought we’d have time to play video games, but my dad got called back for an interview, and my mom’s on a temp job, so I got stuck babysitting.”

“It’s all right. I don’t mind,” Blaine assured him. And he didn’t mind. He understood it wasn’t something Sam had any control over.

“I don’t know if you wanna stay, or—”

“Of course I’ll stay, Sam. I might as well hang around just to make sure those two don’t go at it again. I have an idea, though,” Blaine said, making his way over to the closet. He stood, rising on his toes, and reached up to the top shelf, pulling down a box with a board game. “We can keep them occupied with this.” He presented the game.

“Candy Land?” Sam asked, and when Blaine nodded, he whooped, “Hell, yeah!”

“Hey, Stacey, Stevie—wanna play a game with us?” Blaine called out, beaming and carrying the game over to the center of the living room. Both children perked up at the mention of a game and bounded over toward him. Blaine sat down cross-legged on the floor and began to unpack the board and pieces, Sam settling down across from him as the two youngsters began arguing over who would be blue.

“Whoa, what did I say about you two fighting?” Sam warned. “Stevie’ll be blue, and Stacey will be green, which I know you like just as much,” he said, shooting a bit of a glare in her direction.

“Yeah,” she admitted and then grinned as she swiped it off the board and stood it up at the starting place, tapping the little gingerbread man-looking figure on the board a few times to make it dance before letting go.

“Alright, let’s play,” Blaine said, setting the shuffled deck of color cards face-down.

They played through with relative peace and cooperation as well as ample light-hearted teasing and laughter. It was a lot of fun for everyone, but halfway through the second round, Stevie got bored, whined about being hungry, and begged to watch a movie, a sentiment that Stacey quickly shared since she was always quick to imitate and agree with her older brother—when she wasn’t provoking him. 

It was close to their bedtime, so Sam put on _Kung Fu Panda_ , knowing they'd most likely both fall asleep to it. He made them bologna sandwiches and fruit slices for dinner, which they nibbled on while they watched the film. With his siblings fed and engrossed in the movie, Sam and Blaine finally had a moment to themselves.

“I didn’t get to tell you—the strangest thing happened today,” Blaine began. “There’s this guy named Kurt—the one I helped out of the dumpster? He found me in the weight room after school today and asked me to join the McKinley show choir.”

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I told him I’d give it a try...so...maybe?”

“That’s awesome, Blaine. I could totally see you doing that, and it sounds like fun, even though I know absolutely nothing about show choir,” Sam said.

“I don’t know much about it either,” Blaine admitted. “I’m going to assume that it’s like choir, so we sing, but I have no idea what the show part is or why they keep calling it a glee club. I figure I’ll find out on Thursday when I go to join.”

Sam’s mouth stretched into a wide smile. “This Thursday? I wanna go with you. I have off, and, like, why not, right?”

Blaine didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but he loved how Sam never judged him, how supportive he was, and how he was always up for anything—like the year they’d created original superheroes, made the costumes together, and dressed up for Halloween. He was lucky to have met Sam when he moved to Lima Heights in seventh grade, and they’d been best friends ever since.

“Yeah, definitely,” Blaine said.

For the first time ever, Blaine actually felt optimistic about something at McKinley. Being invited by Kurt to be in the glee club with him was already something he was sincerely excited about, and now, with Sam’s eagerness to tag along, he didn’t have to join it alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt’s entire body was thrumming from excitement, his leg bouncing uncontrollably. After impatiently checking the clock on the wall as well as his phone at least a dozen times, he shifted in the hard plastic, maroon-colored chair, twisting to get a good look around the choir room. Kurt was hoping to see a particular familiar face, and he turned back around just in time to see Mercedes walking through the doorway. His mouth stretched into a wide, beaming grin when she headed directly for the empty seat beside him. 

Mercedes set her bag down and leaned in. “So? You said you have a surprise. What is it, and where is it?” She peered around, promptly returning her full attention to Kurt and watching him expectantly.

“It’s more of a _who_ is it, Mercedes,” Kurt said. Her eyes lit up at the comment. “I was hoping he’d be here already, but now I’m getting nervous about the whole thing. Do you remember how I told you about Blaine, the boy who helped me out of the dumpster?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed. “How could I forget. You haven’t stopped talking about him since, and I’m starting to think you’re developing a bit of a crush.”

“I am _not_ ,” Kurt said, trying to deny it, but he could feel his face burning. “Okay, so maybe just an itty bitty crush,” he admitted. “Anyway, I sorta, well, at least I _think_ I managed to convince him to join glee club.”

“He’s coming to rehearsal? Today?” Mercedes said, her jaw dropping slightly.

Kurt nodded vigorously, his eyes wide and bright. “Think about how great it’ll be to have a new member, especially one that’s very easy on the eyes. God, Mercedes,” Kurt said with a drawn-out sigh, “I may not know him much, but there’s something about him that’s kind of mysterious...like there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye...and he’s cute.”

Mercedes giggled. “I think I’ve seen him around with that tall blond kid, Sam Evans. Neither of them are really my type, but they’re definitely cute. Do you think they put something in the water in The Heights?” she joked.

“ _Definitely_ something in the water,” Kurt agreed with a nod, giggling along. “Ever since Finn told me they were Ravens, I’ve been trying to picture them playing football in the tights and everything.”

“Oh, you’re bad, Kurt,” Mercedes said, playfully smacking his arm before covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.

When two boys walked through the doorway, the room grew uncomfortably silent. Heads turned, and Kurt and Mercedes’ giggle fit came to an abrupt stop when they laid eyes on Blaine and Sam.

“Speak of the devil,” Kurt said under his breath, and Mercedes snorted. Actually, Kurt was nothing less than surprised and elated to see the pair—well, at least one of the pair.

They watched as the boys approached Mr. Schuester, who welcomed them and directed them toward the seats. Kurt’s eyes followed Blaine’s movement until he was only a few feet away, and then Blaine hopped up onto the risers to take a seat with Sam in the back corner and out of his line of sight. 

Mr. Schuester cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention. “All right, everyone! Settle down.”

The members who had been milling about or messing around on the instruments came to a halt and climbed into the remaining empty seats.

“I am very happy to announce that we have not one, but two new members joining us today, Blaine Anderson,” he gestured toward the back corner, “and Sam Evans.”

“I didn’t know he was going to bring someone with him,” Kurt said through gritted teeth and a plastered on smile.

Mercedes rolled her eyes when she saw sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. “Just wait for it—”

Sure enough, Mercedes was cut off when Rachel Berry took to the floor, stepping in front of Mr. Schuester to address the group. She gently cleared her throat and flipped her hair with a quick turn of her head. “I would just like to say how excited I am for the opportunity to work with fresh blood and talent, and I want to extend a big welcome to Blaine especially,” she pressed a palm to her chest, “whom I discovered myself. I’m very happy he saw sense and decided to join us.”

“Huh?” Kurt said, more loudly than he’d intended.

“What’s she talking about?” Mercedes hissed.

“Yeah, what _are_ you talking about?” Blaine spoke up from behind them, his eyebrows raised incredulously.

Rachel’s confident smile was unwavering. “Well, you finally came around after I approached you on the first day.”

“No. You’re not the reason I decided to join. Trust me,” Blaine said, and Sam began to snicker beside him. “Actually, it was Kurt who asked politely, so I said yes.”

Some muffled and raucous laughter could be heard around the room, coming from most if not all members.

“Looks like someone’s not afraid to shut her up,” Quinn said.

“Shut up and shot down,” Artie added. “Hummel’s found us a winner.”

Tina smirked. “Better sit down, Berry.”

“I like him already,” Mike quietly told Tina.

Rachel looked flabbergasted and embarrassed, and then she turned her head sharply and glared at Kurt. He couldn’t stop himself from fixing her with a gloating expression, and she huffed and swiftly returned to her seat. Finn reached behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner, but she fidgeted, pushing him away and mouthing something to him, at which Finn appeared confused.

Mr. Schuester began to speak again but was interrupted most inopportunely when Sugar strutted through the doorway, her heels clacking noisily on the floor, fashionably late as always and with no regard to the others who were there to begin on time. When she passed the piano, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes grew wide, met Blaine’s and then Sam’s, and then she made her way all the way to the opposite side of the room and sat down, straightening and smoothing out her skirt. She fished her pocket mirror out of her handbag to check her hair and makeup, tuning out everyone in the room.

Blaine noticed the behavior but decided to ignore it. He’d been getting used to the looks and comments, and, besides, there was something else holding his interest while he sat there, distractedly listening to the teacher give direction. Up in the back corner, he had the perfect vantage point. He actually missed instruction on what they were supposed to be doing because he was staring at the back of Kurt’s head, noticing how neatly his hair met his neck and his neck met those broad shoulders. Blaine was finally stirred from his daze when Kurt shifted and rose from his seat.

“I’ve prepared a song for this week’s assignment,” Kurt said, briefly rocking up and down on the balls of his feet. He handed off the sheet music to the man at the piano and took his place at the center of the room, facing the rest of the members.

Blaine swallowed hard, not sure what to expect. He certainly hadn’t been expecting to hear a solo performed on the very first day he was there. He grew nervous in anticipation and leaned forward in his seat.

When Kurt sang, his voice was soft, yet strong and clear, like birdsong. After the first few bars, Blaine’s nervousness had completely dissolved, and he became enthralled by Kurt’s voice, how he held himself, and how expressive and beautiful he was. At one point, Blaine felt chills run the course of his body, and he couldn’t remember ever being moved like that by music. Everything about Kurt was fascinating and inspiring. He remembered the joyful feeling he used to get when he used to sing and knew it was a feeling he wanted to get back and fully embrace again—and now he could.

After Kurt cut off the final note and the room was engulfed in silence again, Blaine felt his heart beating too-quick in his chest, the accelerated _thump thump_ almost audible. There was an ache in his chest as if Kurt had taken a bit of Blaine with him. As crazy as it all felt, he thought the ache might go away if Kurt would sing again, that his voice might fill Blaine and make him whole. 

During the remainder of the rehearsal, Blaine had been handed sheet music, had sung warm-ups, and had listened to a few other members of the show choir sing. Even after being subjected to Rachel’s overly dramatic solo and hearing Mercedes's soulful tones, though, getting Kurt’s voice out of his head was proving impossible. Not until they were dismissed did Blaine pull himself out of his reverie so he could head home...where he knew he still would be thinking about Kurt.

-s-

Blaine spooned out a heaping helping of macaroni and cheese into his bowl and carried it over to the couch, along with a bowl containing something closer to the suggested serving size. The news story playing off the laptop hummed at a low volume, and Blaine handed the smaller serving to his mom before taking a seat beside her. He absentmindedly watched the figures moving on the screen while digging into the cheesy pasta, his mind still lingering on glee club.

Blaine paused between forkfuls. “I didn’t spend time in the weight room today after school.”

Pam looked up, her brow knitting. “Were those boys being mean again? If they chased you out, I need to have a talk with that principal.”

“No, Mom, it wasn’t anything like that. I, uh, I joined a club. Glee Club.”

“Blaine, that’s wonderful! You used to _love_ singing in choir. I still have a video around here somewhere of your first elementary school concert,” Pam said, feeling nostalgic. “God, you were so cute, all dressed up with a little bow tie and everything,” she gushed. “You were right in the front, smiling big the entire time.”

“Mom,” Blaine groaned. She looked at him with laughter in her eyes, and he spoke more softly, “I think I’m really going to like it there, though.”

“What made you want to check out the glee club?”

“A McKinley boy asked me to join, believe it or not. His name’s Kurt, and you should hear him sing...” Blaine got lost in his thoughts for a moment, not realizing he was grinning at the memory of the song, his lips slightly parted.

“It seems like you really like him,” Pam said. “See? Not everyone at McKinley is the same. You gave someone a chance, and it worked out. I’m happy you made a friend.”

“Kurt’s...really nice. He gets bullied by the other McKinley kids, even though he’s one of them. He’s gay, Mom, and they don’t like that he’s not afraid to stand out.”

Pam was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke her voice was soft yet firm. “You’ve never been afraid to be who you are, either. You were always so brave. It sounds like you might have a lot more in common than you thought,” she offered.

They both grew quiet and focused their attention on the small screen as a local congressman began to speak. Blaine never really cared much for politics, but he was surprised and intrigued by the topic being discussed. Hearing someone so prominent talking about and advocating for LGBTQ+ rights in the state of Ohio was unusual, and he sat on the edge of his seat, intrigued, hanging onto every word. His eyes scanned the headline and name.

“Burt Hummel,” Blaine slowly read aloud, something clicking in his mind. “Oh my god.”

“What is it, Blaine?”

“Hummel...” He thought that was what the boy in the wheelchair had said. “Burt Hummel...it can’t be. I think that’s Kurt’s dad,” Blaine said, staring hard and squinting at the screen. He could see some resemblance in the man’s features to the boy from school, although he wasn’t a dead ringer by any means. He’d had no idea Kurt was the son of a political figure, but when he really thought about it, it wasn’t all that surprising or unbelievable, considering Kurt’s manner of speaking, dressing, and how he carries himself.

God, to have a dad who cared that much and went to bat for his son. It was no wonder Kurt had the confidence to be himself.

Ever since his parents’ divorce, Blaine’s dad never seemed to want much to do with him, and he only saw him on certain holidays, usually just Christmas and Easter. Come to think of it, Blaine wasn’t even sure if his dad paid enough attention to him to know he’s gay. The only thing they ever had in common was football, and he’d successfully pushed Blaine to join the peewee team just before he left. Blaine’s dad had also tried to get him interested in cars, a major part of his trade as a salesman, but to no avail. He’d always mentioned how he wanted to buy a clunker, a real American sport model like a Mustang or a Camaro, and rebuild it with Blaine, but nothing ever came of it. And then he was gone, off to another part of the state with another family. He’d traded in Pam for a younger model with a fresh paint job and shinier rims. To this day, Blaine still wondered why anyone would leave his mom, who he thought was one of the kindest, most beautiful women in the state, if not the country or world.

Cooper had been the lucky one, already out of the house and attending an out-of-state college when the fighting worsened, eventually became unbearable, and everything fell apart. Blaine envied his brother, but he also resented him for not being around when they nearly lost the house, and their mom was going it alone. Perhaps a perk of remaining indifferent and distant was that their dad continued to pay his tuition since there’s no way their mom could afford it.

His thoughts were brought back to the present when Pam said, “Burt Hummel is a really down-to-earth man. He owns the tire shop in Lima, and he still insists on working there and running it, even after being elected to his new position.”

It warmed Blaine to hear his mom speak fondly of the outspoken congressman, an ally and Kurt’s father. Blaine never would have imagined that Kurt’s dad was also a mechanic, and he began to realize that underneath all those layers of expensive, designer clothes and his ‘right-side-of-the-tracks’ Lima upbringing, Kurt really was a lot more like him than he’d originally thought.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been over a month since Blaine and the whole group had gotten together to hang out, and a lot had happened in that space of time. So when Puck sent out a group text on a Friday afternoon with an invite and the promise of booze, they were all eager to meet up, catch up, and unwind for the night.

Puck bribed his little sister with access to all his video games and five bucks to keep quiet, and then they snuck out onto the roof of the apartment building, toting the pilfered bottle of whiskey he’d recently acquired from his mother’s cabinet.

It was a brisk autumn evening, with a cloudless sky and a clear view of the moon and stars, which shone like radiant gemstones set against an inky, velvet backdrop. The four friends sat around in a circle on the flat rooftop, enjoying the liberating feeling of being together again in their own space without having to worry about the interference of parents or anyone else.

Blaine was just happy to see everyone, so he didn’t fuss about passing around the bottle and having to hold his nose to endure the strong taste and burn of the hard liquor. It didn’t take long for all of them to reach a state of warm and tipsy, and they continued to drink until everyone was thoroughly and comfortably inebriated.

“You and Sam seem to be fitting in at McKinley,” Santana said, waving her hand in their direction. “What’s that queer shit you two joined? Show choir?! I expect that stuff from Blaine, and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised about Sam. After all, he spends so much of his free time fondling foot-longs.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to be a bitch, San. It’s actually a lot of fun.”

“I guess it must be. The girl I sit next to in my math class is in it,” Santana said. “She’s kinda cool, even though she’s dumb as a brick and thinks the square root of four is a potato.”

“Are you talking about Brittany?” Sam asked. “Blonde, tall, cheerleader?”

Santana shrugged. “Probably.”

“You should see her dance! She’s, like, _wow_.”

Santana grew quiet, momentarily spacing out.

Blaine watched Santana carefully for a moment, and then he saw something familiar flicker in her eyes, making her a bit transparent. Santana didn’t usually involve herself in the affairs of others, which is to say, she didn’t care about most people’s lives unless there was some personal, vested interest. But Blaine could tell that something else must fascinate Santana about their very pretty choir mate, and he blurted it out on impulse and slightly out of spite.

“Are you sure what you like about Brittany isn’t her long legs in that cheerleading skirt?” Blaine asked, his mouth curling into a sly grin.

“Suck a dick, Anderson,” she shot back, her eyes growing dark and almost fiery.

“Well, he is after Hummel’s,” Sam jumped in.

“What?” Puck was grinning, suddenly interested in their banter.

Blaine felt his face grow impossibly hotter than it already was. “Shut up, Sam.”

The others broke out into laughter at Blaine’s expense, and, not wanting to look at them, he leaned back, allowing himself to fall back and lay supine on the rooftop. His gaze was now on the night sky, the image of which was spinning ever so slightly. He blinked hard, the dizzy feeling persisting.

“Dude, Blaine could totally get that,” Puck said, still chuckling.

Santana finally stopped laughing enough to catch her breath. “You have to be blind to not see how fine his ass is in those tight, tight, ball-crushing jeans he wears. No wonder his voice is so high.”

“Hey, San, you should join glee club!” Puck said. “You obviously have a big fat crush on the blue-eyed, round-bootied, porcelain Christmas angel.”

“You don’t even celebrate Christmas!” Santana said. “ _You_ should join glee club, Puck. They have skinny, blonde cheerleading bitches.”

“What I _should_ do is take a piss,” Puck groaned. “I drank way too much, and it just hit me.”

“Oh, lord,” Santana said, and then she perked up with a sudden idea. “Oo! I got it! How about a bet? If you lose, you join glee club, and if _you_ win, _I_ join.”

“I’m listening,” Puck said, rising unsteadily to his feet and placing his hands on his hips.

“I bet you you can’t pee off the roof directly into a trashcan in the alley below.”

“That’s easy,” Puck said with a laugh.

“Who’re you kidding? You’re drunk ass won’t be able to aim,” she said.

“Easy.” Puck began to unzip his pants and turn toward the edge of the roof.

“Wait!” Santana called out, holding a hand up. “We need a ref—Blaine! Blaine likes dick.”

Blaine jerked up into a sitting position at the mention of his name in connection to their lewd wagering. “C’mon. That’s messed up. I’m not gonna watch someone take a piss. Besides, that’s just nasty.”

“Fuck, man, I need to let this out.” Puck lumbered over toward the edge to relieve himself. His face was scrunched in concentration as he watched the trajectory of the stream, and he cheered when he was through, pumping his fist in the air. He zipped his pants, turning back around. “Fuck, yeah! That was a perfect arc! Need me to prove it?”

Santana looked horrified and shook her head. “No, I’ll take your word for it. You’re nasty, Puck. I can’t believe you actually did that.”

“You dared me!” he said, and Sam began to laugh.

“How about this,” Puck proffered. “Even though you lost, I’ll join with you, and we can fuck around in the club together. How bad could it be? It’s all temporary anyway.”

Temporary. It was all temporary. Puck was right. The word echoed in Blaine’s alcohol-infused mind, and he suddenly was having a lot less fun, his stomach feeling queasy. Just when he’d found something at McKinley that wasn’t foul and unwelcoming, something that hadn’t tried to push him away when he showed interest, something that he was actually enjoying, he’d been reminded that their time there was limited, and it could come to an end sooner than later. Despite the attitudes of some members, Blaine had already been growing attached to the group and was enjoying learning new music and choreography. Once the repairs were complete at Lima Heights High, he’d not only have to say goodbye to having music in his life again, but he’d have to say goodbye to the people who let him in. He would have to say goodbye to Kurt. And it hit him then, just how much he would miss him.

-s-

When the announcement came over the intercom that the school was going into a code yellow lockdown, a number of students began to panic and became rowdy. It took everything in the teachers’ power and a lot of patience to calm them down to a noise level over which the teachers could be heard in order to explain that code yellow didn’t mean there was a present danger or threat. It only meant that they needed the hallways cleared and students contained in their classrooms. It was likely just a drill, but they still needed to comply and behave.

In one classroom, a few unruly students refused to stay in their seats, and one of them went to the door to peer through the glass, jumping back with a yelp when loud barking started up, booming and echoing through the halls.

“There are dogs out there!”

Rumors spread rapidly, and by lunch time the cafeteria was abuzz, some people swearing they knew exactly what happened and why the Lima K-9 Unit, the drug-sniffing dogs, had been brought into the school. Blaine was unsettled by the talk, and he turned to Sam to see if his friend knew any more than he did.

“Is it true that Puck was pulled out of class and taken to the principal’s office?” Blaine asked.

“Yeah, he wasn’t in the next class either.”

“What happened? I keep hearing that they found weed in someone’s locker, but there’s no way it was Puck. He doesn’t touch that kinda stuff.”

“There are way too many versions of the story, but I overheard it was actually one of the McKinley students who had the drugs. The kid even goes by the nickname ‘Stoner’ Brett,” Sam said. “Figures.”

“Brett Bukowski? He’s in my art class,” Blaine said. “That honestly doesn’t surprise me about him, but then why was Puck taken to the office?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, man. Hopefully he’ll tell us later.”

A day passed and then another, and Puck hadn’t told them a single detail about what had happened. He seemed to be avoiding Blaine and Sam altogether, and they knew he only got like that and became withdrawn when he was especially pissed off. It was also possible that he was on lockdown at home, and his mom was probably giving him a lot of shit. They could understand why he wouldn’t want to show his face or be bothered.

But the rumor mill kept on running, and soon enough, they’d heard what seemed the closest to the truth.

Blaine sat down beside his mom that evening, itching to tell her what was weighing on his mind. It was a difficult subject to broach with his mom, but after all they’d been through and survived together, Blaine was closer to his mom than a lot of kids, and he felt comfortable enough to confide in her.

“Puck got in trouble for something really bad,” Blaine told her, “but there’s no proof that he even did anything.”

“What happened?”

“You know how I told you about the drug dogs? They caught a McKinley boy with pot, and, because of Puck’s record, they accused him of supplying it. I know he would never do that. Now they think that we’re bringing drugs into the school, and it’s making me angry.”

“Where would Puck even get something like that?” Pam asked.

“I have no idea, but I don’t believe he did it, Mom.”

“That _is_ a very serious accusation. I know Puck made mistakes in the past and got himself into some trouble, but if you think your friend didn’t do it, then I don’t think he did, either. You know him much better than I do, and I trust you to be honest with me about something like that.”

Blaine felt immense relief to hear those words of support leave his mom’s mouth. “The worst part about this entire situation is that they have another thing to blame us for. The Lima kids are starting fights over it. I thought things were going to get better, but I guess I was wrong.”

When Blaine had drunkenly contemplated what it meant for their stay at McKinley to be temporary, it had troubled him, but he was now starting to believe that maybe it had only been the whiskey that made him sentimental. Now he wasn’t sure if the pros really outweighed the cons, and he wondered if he would actually miss McKinley, or if getting out of there and leaving Kurt and the show choir behind really was all for the best.


	9. Chapter 9

“Okay, everyone. From the top!”

Somewhere along the way, while practicing the choreography for a new pop song, Kurt had found himself next to Blaine, occasionally so close that their arms or fingers would lightly brush against each other if one or both of them missed a step. And they’d missed quite a few.

Blaine felt himself blush every time Kurt looked at him or accidentally knocked into him, and it got to a point where he was so close that he could smell Kurt’s heady cologne. God, he smelled so good, like soap and fresh laundry mixed with something sweet and fruity. Blaine couldn’t concentrate or think straight and kept fouling up the steps as a result.

“All right, all right, that’s close enough,” a clearly frustrated Mr. Schuester said, bringing the group to a halt. “We’re in good enough form that we can pick this back up during next practice and really nail it down so that it’s performance ready. Now that we have fourteen members, we’re looking and sounding better than ever, and I want to see you guys crush it at Sectionals.”

As soon as he dismissed them, Kurt hurried to his seat to grab his bag, immediately digging his phone out. He turned, catching sight of Blaine, and then made his way toward him, determined to finally do something he should have done weeks ago.

“Hey, Blaine,” Kurt said, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” Blaine shouldered his backpack and hopped down the risers to the front row, stopping to stand in front of the seat Mercedes recently had vacated.

“I...I was wondering if maybe we could...exchange numbers,” Kurt stammered, and then he added quickly, “phone numbers.”

Blaine chuckled at the unnecessary clarification, not sure if the laughter came out as a product of his own nerves or just because he found Kurt’s obvious nervousness so adorable.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t...of course, Kurt,” Blaine managed, pulling his own phone out of his pocket.

After they exchanged phones and programmed in their contact information, Blaine felt giddy. He’d never swapped numbers before with a boy—at least, not a wildly attractive, very nice, gay boy, and, although Blaine didn’t think there was some hidden meaning behind it, it felt new and exciting.

“I, uh, thanks,” Kurt said with a shy smile. He was uncertain what to do next, so he busied himself by returning his phone to his bag and was relieved when Mr. Schuester called out for their attention. He took that opportunity to rush to Mercedes’ side a few chairs down the row.

“I have one more announcement to make before you all head out!” he said. “For next week’s assignment, I want you to pair up because you’re going to be singing duets! We’ve done solos, and we’ve been focusing on what it means to work collectively as a team, but now I want you all to learn the importance of chemistry, about connecting one-on-one with a partner. In anything you do—work, relationships, drama and theatre, and even in music—it’s vital that you learn how to read and feed off of another person and their energy, to act and react in the moment. When we can connect individually and as a cohesive group, our performances will be that much stronger.”

“This is fantastic! I already have so many songs in my repertoire that are perfect!” Rachel felt the need to make known to all. She quickly grabbed Finn’s hand, pulling him to her side as if claiming him.

“There are no rules as to what you’re allowed to sing, but, please, guys, keep it school-appropriate. That’s all for now. Have fun, and have a good day!”

Blaine had noticed Kurt slip away, but he wasn’t going to chase after him. However, when Mr. Schuester said they’d be singing duets, Blaine’s thoughts immediately jumped to Kurt and how he would love to pair up and sing with him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam giving him _that_ look, the assuming one that best friends often exchange when any partner work or assignment is announced, and he knew he already had a duet partner by default. Blaine glanced at Kurt, but he was too caught up in conversation, speaking quickly and enthusiastically with Mercedes, as if they already had a song picked out, and his heart sank.

“What was that all about?” Puck asked, nudging Blaine in the arm. “You finally get Hummel’s digits?”

“He better have,” Santana cut in. “It’s about time you finally made a move. Half the fun of being in here is watching you and Hummel flirt like idiots.”

“We’re just friends. _Just friends_ ,” Blaine said again for emphasis. 

“Friends who’re constantly eye fucking each other.” Santana crossed her arms and smirked. “How long is that going to last until you can’t keep it in your pants?”

“It’s not even like that, guys,” Blaine said, lowering his volume so he wouldn’t be overheard. “So I think he’s cute, but we haven’t even hung out outside of school yet. I’m not even sure if he would want to hang out with me.”

“C’mon, Blaine, of course he will,” Sam said. “You’re the coolest guy I know, and I’ve seen how he looks at you...”

“I don’t think so, Sam. He’s into all these fancy things like fashion and Broadway shows. I’m pretty sure he’s probably never even touched a football, and I doubt he does the things we do in our free time. He has a car and money...he probably has much better things to do. He’s not like us.”

“He’s right,” Puck said, “he’s not. Let’s lay off of Blaine now. We need to catch the late bus anyway, and I’m starving.”

“And we need to talk about what song we wanna do for the duet,” Sam said, promptly changing the subject. “We can figure it out on the bus.”

-s-

Over the weekend, Puck sent out a group text with an invite to go grab a slice of pizza at this place in Lima he’d just heard about. A fourth, unknown number that showed up on both Blaine’s and Sam’s phones eventually answered the question of how he’d learned about the place. Puck swung around to their places and picked them up in his truck, and during the ride, he explained that he also had invited McKinley’s very own quarterback and fellow member of the glee club, Finn Hudson.

“I promise, he’s really cool. Even though he’s dating that Rachel chick, he’s pretty chill and into a lot of the same things as us.”

“It’s cool,” Sam said. “Finn seems like a nice guy from what I’ve seen of him in glee club.”

When they arrived, Finn was already there, had claimed a booth, and, much to the dismay of the three friends, especially Blaine and Sam, he already had ordered for all of them and paid.

A server carried over a large, fresh, half-pepperoni and half-plain cheese pizza, and a pitcher of Coca-Cola, setting everything in the center of the table. Blaine’s mouth had begun watering as soon as they’d set foot in the restaurant, and now that the food was directly in front of him, he wanted to devour it, and quickly, but a twinge of guilt was holding him back from taking a slice. He didn’t like the fact that Finn had felt the need to treat them all, and he wondered if he’d done it because he thought they couldn’t afford to chip in. Even though it was a kind gesture, it left a really bad taste in his mouth.

He felt a bit embarrassed, but he was so hungry that he pulled a slice onto his plate as soon as Finn had taken one first.

“I had to get out of the house,” Finn began, talking while still chewing. He swallowed and sucked up some soda through his straw. “Kurt was doing some kinda jazzercise thing in the living room, and then he took over the bathroom with all his moisturizing stuff, and it was annoying. I’m sorry,” Finn said directly to Blaine, “I know he’s your friend, but the dude is weird sometimes.”

Blaine had perked up at the mention of Kurt’s name, but he was trying his best to appear disinterested and as if he wasn’t hanging onto every word uttered about Kurt. He simply shrugged to acknowledge Finn as if he didn’t care.

“Are you guys going to the game on Friday?” Finn asked.

Puck lit up and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

Blaine hadn’t really given it any thought. He wasn’t that interested in watching their rival school play another team while cheering them on. It would feel traitorous in a way, to sit in the stands in support of the Titans. Not to mention, they haven’t all been the nicest people, and he had a long list of things he’d rather be doing than watching those meatheads play.

Blaine shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sam had been gauging Blaine’s reaction, and then he shrugged. “Probably not.”

Despite their responses, Finn still wore a genial grin. “It should be a really great game, so if you guys change your mind, it’d be awesome if you were there. I’m sure there’ll be a post-game party somewhere that we can hit up, too. A lot of the glee club will be there, like Quinn and Brittany and of course Rachel. Mike’s also on the team. If you think his dance moves are great, you should see him on the field.”

“Speaking of Brittany, it seems like she and Santana have been getting really close,” Sam said, taking a sip of his drink. “She’s been spending less time with us in glee club and even outside of school, and no one knows what she’s been up to. You think she’s thinking of joining cheerleading?”

Blaine and Puck both burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said, gasping for air, “I just can’t see Santana as a cheerleader.”

“I’d like to, but I don’t think she’d ever get into something like that,” Puck agreed.

“You’re right,” Sam said, “she’d have to smile all the time and be super peppy, and I’m sure that would be exhausting for her.”

Puck tapped Finn’s arm. “Yo, did you see what Quinn was wearing the other day? You could see right through her shirt. Even when the cheerleaders _aren’t_ in uniform, they’re hot.”

Finn looked down at the table, grinning stupidly, seemingly reluctant to answer Puck’s question. After all, he did have a girlfriend, but it was obvious that he was examining a clear memory of that exact outfit on their choir mate.

Blaine began to zone out as the guys talked more about girls and the classes they had together before they were back on the topic of football, and he absentmindedly and lazily chewed the remainder of his pizza crust. He sucked the rest of his soda through the straw before twirling it around in the remaining ice, which clattered against the sides of the hard plastic cup.

His mind began to drift back to glee club and the duets they were all paired up and planning to do, and he suddenly realized that everyone was pairing off in other ways and breaking away from their group of friends—Santana didn’t hang out with them as much, and Puck really seemed to have hit it off with Finn and was paying very little attention to him and Sam during the entire pizza outing. Blaine wondered how long it would take before Sam found someone more interesting at McKinley and then left him. Of all the things that resulted from the merge of the two schools, Blaine had never expected that he and his longtime best friends might drift apart, and it saddened him to think about it. Still, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t met new people too—or one in particular—and he was beginning to really consider sending Kurt a text—if only he knew what to say to break the ice and not sound like an idiot.

When the pizza was completely gone, Blaine was grateful to leave the restaurant. It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed the food or the time with his friends and even the opportunity to get to know Finn a little better; he just felt a bit unsettled by the conversation and distracted by thoughts of Kurt, especially that little tidbit Finn had shared toward the beginning of the meal. He had this very vivid mental image of Kurt in workout clothes, consisting of impossibly tight, very short shorts, a tank top, and a headband to keep his hair out of his face, and he wished he actually could have seen him in action. The boy could dance, but the thought of him sweat-slick and in a state of dishevelment was kind of turning Blaine on. What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on his wall....Blaine had to stop himself right there before his thoughts became too dangerous for public and his body gave him away.

After Puck drove Blaine and Sam back to Lima Heights and dropped them off at Sam’s, he headed back in the direction of Lima and not toward his apartment. Both boys figured that he’d already made plans with Finn to do something they weren’t invited to, but at least they had gotten to spend the time they did with him.

“I guess it’s just us two now,” Sam said.

“Yeah...” Blaine sighed heavily, and he smiled at Sam, not really paying that much attention as they ascended the stairs to his apartment. His mind was now on Kurt and only Kurt.

Blaine’s extended silence became noticeable, and Sam turned toward him once they were in his bedroom, waving his hand in front of his face to get his attention. “Earth to Blaine!”

Blaine shook his head, finally back in the moment. “I’m sorry, Sam. I was just thinking about something.”

“Judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing it was something good—or someone good,” Sam teased.

“You caught me,” Blaine said a bit sheepishly.

“Kurt?”

“Mhmm.”

“Have you even asked him to hang out yet? You’ve had his number for a week now, and you haven’t even texted him.”

“No,” he admitted sadly. “What would we even do? I doubt he’d want to come play videogames with us.”

“You never know. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“I guess you’re right,” Blaine said.

“Let’s get together at your place tomorrow, and you can invite Kurt. That way it won’t be awkward, since it’ll be all of us hanging out.”

“Sounds good,” Blaine said, but his stomach was full of nerves at the thought of having Kurt at his house.

-s-

That night, Blaine laid snugly in his bed, covers pulled up around him, flat on his back with his phone in his hand. All it would take was a simple ‘hey’ and an invite, but it took him nearly an hour to find the perfect wording and another twenty minutes to muster up the courage to send the message he’d already typed out. He could do it. He had to do it. Once the message had been sent, a feeling of dread set in, and every second that passed without a response felt like an hour. Then Blaine’s phone vibrated in his hand, and his hands were shaking as he opened up the text.

**Kurt**

_I would love to._

Blaine’s heart began to race, and he read over the text several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, the word ‘love’ giving him pause and making his breath hitch every time. Blaine felt strangely light, and he couldn’t wipe the silly grin off his face, even when he set the phone aside, rolled over and closed his eyes to finally fall asleep.

-s-

Blaine paced the living room floor, constantly looking around, checking and rechecking to make sure there was nothing odd lying around, and then he sniffed himself to make sure he wouldn’t offend Kurt when he finally arrived. Even though he had showered, he was just so nervous. Sam was running late and should have been over at Blaine’s already. Blaine texted him, but he still hadn’t responded. When there was a knock at the door, he stopped in his tracks, and his head jerked up.

Standing on the other side wasn’t Sam, but a slightly bewildered looking Kurt.

“Hey, Blaine. It’s okay if I park there on the street, right?”

Blaine looked past Kurt, the question not registering at first, until he saw the SUV, and then he nodded. “Oh, yeah, of course. It’ll be fine.” Blaine opened the door wide and stepped to the side to let him in. “Come in.” Kurt hesitated for a second but then took a few steps forward. After Blaine closed the door, he turned to Kurt and said, “I’m glad you came. I, uh, I was going to set up a game on my laptop, and Sam was supposed to bring it over with all the necessary cables and controllers, but he’s currently MIA.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt said, glancing around at his surroundings. He offered Blaine what was meant to be a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t so sure it came off that way.

As Blaine led him through the house, Kurt couldn’t stop himself from scanning the interior and taking silent inventory of everything around him—or inventory of what wasn’t there for that matter. They didn’t seem to have a television, there wasn’t much furniture, and there were only blinds on the windows. When they entered Blaine’s bedroom, he saw that it was cramped, filled only with a bed, a laundry basket, a bookshelf, and a small dresser. The lack of proper amenities put Kurt off a little, but he tried to ignore it, hoping his discomfort wouldn’t show on his face.

“My mom’s at work. She usually gets home around dinner time,” Blaine explained. “We can hang out until then. Do you want a snack?”

“Sure,” Kurt said.

Blaine quickly retrieved a bag of Doritos from the kitchen and returned to the bedroom.  

His phone finally went off with an incoming text from Sam, and he opened it, feeling relieved. Once he read the message, though, he felt irritated and a bit angry with his friend.

 **Sam**   
_sorry, dude. can’t make it today. have fun... ;)_

 _A winky face emoji? Really?_ Blaine thought. He’d done it on purpose. The bastard had purposely bailed at the last minute, knowing that Blaine would now have to spend time alone with Kurt in an empty house, without the game they’d planned to distract them—not to mention the comfort of a group activity to ease Blaine’s nerves from hanging out with Kurt outside of school for the first time.

Blaine swallowed hard and tried to think fast, setting the bag of chips on the bed and turning to scoop up his laptop from where it was nestled in his bedding.

“Um...so it turns out Sam can’t make it. But I have another game we can play,” he said, throwing himself onto the bed and repositioning himself to sit cross-legged. He paused, looking up questioningly at Kurt. “Do you even like videogames?”

“Not really,” Kurt admitted, and he felt a little bad for being honest. “I usually just watch when Finn plays, and I get bored of it too easily. It’s always someone shooting someone or blowing up aliens or racing cars or sports. It’s kind of monotonous.”

“I think I have a game you might like.” Blaine patted the bed beside him, feeling confident that he could change Kurt’s mind.  

Kurt looked at the spot beside Blaine, removed his shoes, and then climbed onto the mattress, tucking his legs underneath him. He leaned over to see what was on the screen. Blaine clicked on a green icon, and after a few seconds, a title screen popped up that read “The Sims”.

“‘The Sims’...? What is this?” Kurt asked, genuinely curious as he watched the game load. A tiny digital neighborhood popped up, and little people were strolling along the sidewalks.

“You’ve never heard of The Sims before?” Blaine said, sincerely shocked. Kurt shook his head, and excitement surged through Blaine now that he knew he could introduce Kurt to something that was entirely new to him. “Here.” Blaine gently set the laptop in Kurt’s lap and pointed to the screen. “Start out by creating a character.”

Kurt clicked where Blaine directed. “I can create anyone?”

“Yeah, anyone at all. You should make yourself!”

“Oh, okay.”

Blaine guided Kurt through all the menus, and soon he had a sim that looked a lot like him. Kurt giggled, amazed by the details in the game. He even took his time choosing the perfect outfit, cracking Blaine up with his commentary, particularly about body proportions and the graphics.

“Now you should make a house,” Blaine said, showing Kurt where to go. “Usually, the game doesn’t give you much money to work with, but I can show you the rosebud cheat, and you’ll have infinite money.” Blaine took over the laptop for a minute and typed in the cheat code before handing it back over. “I wish that was something that worked in real life,” Blaine joked, and Kurt laughed and hummed in agreement.

Sure enough, Kurt was really getting into the game, and Blaine was thrilled with how happy and excited Kurt got over every new feature he discovered. He often caught himself just watching Kurt rather than the game and began to notice more subtle things like the dimples in his cheeks, the way he smiled with his teeth only when he was laughing particularly hard at something, the crinkles that formed at the corners of his eyes, the way his eyelashes fluttered, how soft his hair looked despite the product holding it in place, how pink his lips were....Blaine found he had to force himself to focus on the game time and again. 

Kurt spent ample time creating his dream house, describing each little detail to Blaine as he did, and when it was complete, he put his sim into the house.

“You should make a sim of you, too,” Kurt insisted. “Oh! And one of Sam!”

As requested, Blaine quickly and obligingly made a computer generated replica of himself and his friend, which Kurt put into the house along with his sim. “There,” he said, sitting back a little and admiring all his work. “It’s perfect.”

“And now you can make them do whatever you want,” Blaine said, beaming at the look of wonder on Kurt’s face. “You’re their god.”

Kurt rubbed his palms together and chuckled almost maniacally before beginning to click around in the game to give his sims orders, and Blaine couldn’t hold back laughter of his own.

They sat and played and talked and joked, and Kurt began to notice that Blaine was somewhat reserved during conversation and, when it came to family, only mentioned his mom and an older brother who didn’t live with him. The absence of any talk about his dad made Kurt realize that his dad must be absent, and they must not have much help around the house and with maintaining it, which would explain the state of their home. Kurt knew what it was like to live in a single-parent household, but his dad had made a decent living at the garage even before he had become a higher-paid Representative. He also was fortunate enough to now have a wonderful and caring stepmom who helped fill the gap that had existed following his mother’s death.

Time escaped them as they continued to enjoy playing the game, and Kurt didn’t notice just how late it was until he heard his phone go off. He paused the game to answer the phone call from his dad, reminding him to come home for dinner, and he set the laptop aside and apologized to Blaine.

“I have to get home now. Thank you so much for inviting me. I had a lot of fun.”

The smile he wore was so genuine and sweet that Blaine melted; he was overjoyed to know that Kurt had truly enjoyed himself.

While Blaine was walking Kurt to the door, Kurt noticed that Blaine’s mom hadn’t returned home yet, and he realized that all they’d eaten the past few hours was half a bag of chips. He was about to return home to a full meal, and he didn’t want Blaine to go hungry.

Kurt paused in front of the door, turning back around toward Blaine. “Do you, um,” he began, not sure if the invitation he was about to give was okay, but he thought his dad would understand, “would you like to come to my house for dinner?”

Blaine was stunned and stood just blinking at Kurt. “I can’t. I mean, my mom’s going to be home any minute, and she usually brings something home for both of us—or I’ll just cook something when I get hungry. But, thank you.”

Kurt pulled the door open and stood in the doorway. “All right. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Bye, Blaine,” he said with a parting wave.  

Kurt felt a sadness sweep over him when he left the house and climbed into his car. During the ride home, all he could think about was Blaine and how he was alone all the time and how he didn’t have a lot of things that Kurt had in abundance, like nice clothes, furnishings, and family. He wondered if Blaine was comfortable with the way he lived, or if the things he went without ate at him every day. There wasn’t much Kurt could do, but he wanted to help. He wanted to see Blaine happy, and if he could contribute anything at all, he would make sure Blaine had the things he needed.

Kurt pulled into his driveway and into the garage to park his car for the night. When he entered the house, the smell of home-cooking hit his senses, welcoming him home and offering him comfort and a feeling of security. His father and stepmother were there along with his stepbrother, all waiting for him so they could sit down together. Kurt was quiet in contemplation while he ate, looking around at everything he had—his family, a home, his things—and he decided he would never take any of it for granted.


	10. Chapter 10

On the bus that morning, Sam told Blaine that he had to watch his younger siblings after school and couldn’t make it to show choir rehearsal, and then, when Blaine got to rehearsal, Sam shot him a text that said he wouldn’t be able to sing the duet with him that they had been planning. What was Blaine going to do now that he didn’t have a partner? He was going to feel terrible breaking the news to Mr. Schuester, and overall it just really sucked that Sam had bailed on him yet again in such a short space of time. Blaine was beginning to wonder if his fears were coming to fruition and whether Sam had found someone else with whom he’d rather spend his time. If that was the case, he would need to believe Sam had been lying to him, and Blaine refused to accept that possibility.

It was what Sam included in the next text that really irked Blaine, the suggestion that he ask Kurt to duet with him. Surely Sam had known that Kurt was already committed to another duet partner; he and Mercedes had been preparing something together. As it turned out, though, Blaine soon noticed that Kurt also was without his partner that day: Mercedes was nowhere in sight. The absence of both Sam and Mercedes was a little suspicious, but it could have just been a strange coincidence. Still, Blaine suspected Sam might be trying to pull something on him, attempting to get him closer to Kurt, because too many coincidences often indicated something else was going on.

They were supposed to perform the following rehearsal. Letting his anger at his friend get to him wasn’t a good idea, so Blaine tried to relax and think everything through. He could just ask Kurt; there was no harm in that. He _would_ ask Kurt. But he was all nerves and wasn’t sure he could take it if Kurt rejected him.

The choir room was still filling up, members traipsing or strolling in, mostly in twos, as Kurt watched from his seat. When Blaine tapped him on the shoulder from behind, he startled him a bit.

“Kurt,” he said, followed by a pregnant pause. “It seems I lost my duet partner, and I was wondering...if maybe you would like to be my duet partner?”

“It’s so odd that you asked, because Mercedes just backed out on me. She didn’t even show up for rehearsal...said she’d found another partner and hoped it would be okay with me. I don’t really know why she’d bail on me at the last minute, and I almost told her no, that it wasn’t okay, especially after the work we’d already put into it. But what kind of best friend would I be if I did? I’m sure she has her reasons. Besides, I can never really be mad at her.”

“Um...is that a yes?” Blaine asked, not fully comprehending Kurt’s mini-rant because his pulse was pounding in his ears.

“Yeah, it’s definitely a yes,” Kurt said, his mouth stretching wide in a grin. Like the flip of a switch, Kurt was suddenly in business mode, taking complete control and becoming very serious. “But we’ve already lost a lot of prep time, and we’ll need to start from square one, so you’ll need to come over my house following rehearsal.”

“Today?” Blaine said, feeling like it was all kind of sudden.

“Yes, today,” Kurt clarified. “We’ll pick a song on the ride to my house, and then we’ll have a few hours to practice.”

“I just have to let my mom know,” Blaine said, recovering quickly and pulling out his phone to send her a text. All he had to do was tell her he wouldn’t be home so she wouldn’t worry about him. “Done.”

“Good.”

Mr. Schuester called the glee club to order, and Blaine took the temporarily empty seat beside Kurt in the front row, Artie on his other side at the end. Used to looking out over everyone’s heads, the new perspective felt strange at first, but Blaine soon adjusted, taking in the new voices he heard all around him.

After glee club let out, Blaine left with Kurt, following him out to the student lot and getting into the passenger seat of Kurt’s SUV. Once he was belted in, Blaine felt as if he was at the point of no return.

Kurt started the car, plugged an auxiliary cable into his iPhone, and brought up his playlist. He set it on shuffle and pressed play. As he drove out of the lot and entered the roadway, the music began to play through the car speakers.

They listened to a few songs on the ride, but Blaine wasn’t feeling any of them. Then a song came on that Blaine was familiar with, and a few words into the first verse, he proclaimed, “This one. This is the song.”

“‘Perfect’?”

“Yes.”

“I love Pink.” Kurt was quiet for a moment, grinning to himself. “I think it’s...perfect.”

Blaine began to sing along quietly, and when the chorus played, Kurt cranked the volume up, and they both sang out at the top of their lungs. The music flowed through them, their voices ringing out in nearly flawless harmony. It was freeing, fulfilling. When the song ended, Blaine began to watch Kurt while Kurt was still watching the road. Then Kurt turned his head, and their eyes met for a split-second, hazel and electric blue. Blaine’s eyes flicked down to Kurt’s lips, and his breath hitched. He had to turn away, refocusing his attention out the side window.

Then Blaine began to laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I know.” Kurt began to giggle too just as they were approaching his house. He pulled into the driveway and parked, killing the engine. “We sounded good though, there’s no denying that. When it’s me and Mercedes, she tends to overpower me, but there’s something softer about your voice that makes it more compatible with mine.”

Kurt led Blaine into the house, and when they rounded the corner toward the kitchen, Blaine jumped a little, surprised to see Congressman Burt Hummel leaning against the counter, clutching a coffee mug. He wasn’t dressed up in a sophisticated suit and tie like on the news; instead, he wore a red plaid flannel shirt, faded jeans, and a black baseball cap. Seeing Kurt and a dressed-down Burt side by side gave Blaine the impression Kurt and his dad were from completely different worlds, and it was a bit jarring.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Burt greeted, and he nodded at Blaine. “Is this, uh, your friend Blaine?”

“Yeah. Mercedes found herself another duet partner, and Blaine lost his partner, so we’re going to be partners. But we only have a couple of days to practice, so I insisted he come over here today.”

“It’s great to meet you, Blaine.” Burt grinned close-mouthed at him. Blaine wanted to respond, but he was awestruck and a little intimidated, so he just stared dumbly and sort of nodded. “You two go on ahead and do what you have to do. Finn’s over Rachel’s, and Carole’s due back from work soon.”

“Oh, I can get started on dinner,” Kurt said. “You should stay, there’ll be plenty of food,” he told Blaine.

“I...okay,” Blaine said. He didn’t feel as if he really had a choice. After all, Kurt was his ride, but the offer of dinner also sounded too tempting to pass up. And Kurt would be cooking. He was curious to see what he might make, especially since Blaine’s skills were lacking in that area.

“Do you like fish? I was planning to make ahi tartare tonight. I always like to try new things, experiment with different dishes.”

“What is that...?”

“It’s tuna with a bunch of delicious things in it, like avocado, onions, and peppers,” Kurt said.

“Yeah, I like tuna,” Blaine said, thinking about the kind that comes in a can.

Kurt didn’t waste any time and went to work, pulling out fresh ingredients from the refrigerator, oil, bowls, a skillet, and other cooking utensils. Blaine watched, in awe at how Kurt was capable of taking all these loose ingredients and whipping something up with them, as if performing some kind of magic. He hadn’t watched many cooking shows, but Blaine imagined that Kurt could have his own, the way he moved about the kitchen with ease. He seemed so knowledgeable and in his element. Kurt hummed a song as he finished up, setting the bowl in the refrigerator so its contents could chill for later consumption.

“Now, let’s get started on that song while we wait for everyone to get home,” Kurt said, grabbing Blaine’s hand and tugging him along into the living room and toward an upright piano.

Blaine was caught off guard by the contact, but Kurt wasn’t rough with him, and his skin was so soft that Blaine lamented the moment when he let go. Kurt took a seat and patted the piano bench beside him, and Blaine sat down, sidling up next to him, but careful not to get too close. There they sat, only inches apart, elbows nearly touching, and it felt so intimate, being in each others’ space.

Kurt plunked out a few notes on the keys. “This right here, that’s the note you’ll sing first and then follow the melody.” He shifted his fingers a little. “And this is a little of what I’ll do.” Kurt played a little tune, and Blaine listened, hearing in his head the way it complemented the melody.

“That’s really good,” Blaine said, daring to hover his hand over the keys. He pressed down on the note Kurt had signified was his starting note, and then, with few errors, he felt his way through the first verse, humming along and then singing out softly.

Kurt was impressed, his eyebrows rising. “Did you just pick that up and play it by ear?”

“Yeah, I’ve always been able to pick out tunes pretty easily. Never had lessons though.”

It was incredible, Kurt thought, to have natural talent like that, but it was heartbreaking to think about never having had a chance to develop that talent and the skill to play more expertly.

Kurt soon joined in and sang beside Blaine, following along with the harmony. Soon enough, they were singing together with little assistance from the piano, their voices blending so nicely. After a few tries, they made it all the way through the song, and then, with a sigh, Kurt stopped playing the piano to take a break.

“I think we’re gonna sound amazing,” Kurt said. “God, I love this song so much.”

“You know, I kinda like the uncensored version more. It’s more emotional and honest, but I know it’s not school-appropriate,” Blaine said.

“I like it better, too,” Kurt admitted. “But I think we’d give Mr. Schue a heart attack if we blindsided him with the explicit version.”

“Can you imagine the look on his face, though?”

“It would be priceless.” Kurt chuckled at the thought, but he would never dare do such a thing. “Well,” he lightly slapped his hands on his thighs before rising from the bench. “I heard Carole come in, so we better go eat something.”

Kurt and Blaine made their way back to the kitchen, and the table was already set for five. Blaine didn’t know where to sit, so he was relieved when Kurt pulled a chair out for him. Finn took the seat on his other side, and Burt and Carole smiled at Blaine from across the table. Blaine felt out of place and a tad uncomfortable. Not only was it the first time he was meeting Kurt’s parents, but having people watching him and asking him questions during dinner was too much too fast, and he felt overwhelmed. He didn’t know what to say and was afraid he would accidentally do something rude as he ate. Mealtimes like this didn’t exist in his house and never really had, not since he was about five years old, when Cooper and his dad were still around. But he did his best to get through it, occasionally making small talk, and the food was unlike anything he was used to eating—definitely not like the stuff from a can—and it tasted amazing. When the meal wrapped up, Blaine was glad to get away from the table and out of the burning spotlight he’d felt was focused on him during dinner.

Following dinner, they sat down to practice for a little while longer, but Kurt couldn't suppress a yawn and was feeling drained from the day.

“I think we’re pretty solid now, and it’s getting pretty late. Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah, and my mom will want me home.”

When Blaine pulled on his coat, Kurt noticed it was only a light jacket. It was November, and the temperature outside was steadily plummeting, especially after sundown. Surely Blaine’s jacket wouldn’t be enough to keep him warm. Kurt suddenly had an idea, and he went quickly to his room and pulled out one of his nicest coats from his closet, a black Burberry trench, and carried it back up the stairs, presenting it to Blaine.

“Here, you can borrow this. It’s getting cold out, and I wouldn’t want you to get sick...especially before our performance,” Kurt added in slight jest.

Blaine slowly took the offered coat, examining it in his hands. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go on,” Kurt assured him.

“Thank you. I’ll get it back to you as soon as possible.” He slid his arms into the sleeves and pulled the coat on. It felt heavy; it was longer than he was used to wearing and a little big around his shoulders, but it was undeniably warm.

Kurt smiled when he saw Blaine in his coat, which was perhaps a little too big on him since Blaine was of a smaller build than Kurt. If truth be told, Kurt wasn’t expecting the coat back at all once he sent Blaine home with it, and he hoped that he would continue to wear it, to have something nice for himself. He knew he needed it, and Kurt wouldn’t miss one of his many coats.

Music played at low volume from Kurt’s phone during the ride to Blaine’s, and they didn’t talk much, just sang along quietly to a few songs. The street was empty in front of the house when they pulled up, and Blaine figured his mom must be held up with customers or may even have taken on a second shift to cover for someone else. They said their goodbyes, and Blaine trudged up to the house and made his way inside.

He stripped off the coat and hung it on the rack by the door before heading directly to his bedroom where his laptop was awaiting him in its usual spot on his bed. When he flipped the top up, “The Sims” was already open waiting for him, and he decided to indulge in the game for a while. Blaine allowed himself to get so lost in the game that he didn’t realize his mother was home until she appeared in his doorway, a bewildered look on her face.

“Hey...” Her eyes scanned the room. “I expected to find someone in here with you.”

“Huh? No, it’s just me,” Blaine said. “Was I making too much noise with my game?”

“No, not at all. I didn’t even know it was on. I just wanted to let you know I’m home and apologize for getting in so late. I figured I would say goodnight, but I saw another coat hanging by the door, and I thought you had company. I was wondering whose it was because _I_ could never afford something so nice.”

“What do you mean?”

“Blaine, that’s a Burberry coat and would cost me two whole paychecks. I’d be too scared to even touch it. People who spend that much money on clothing are foolish and must have money to waste.” Pam looked a little disturbed, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

“I just borrowed it...from Kurt. I had no idea,” Blaine said.

“I know, honey. Just be careful with it, and make sure you give it back soon.”

A little unsettled by the conversation and new knowledge of the cost of the coat, Blaine went back to his game to distract himself. Two whole paychecks. His mom’s words haunted him as he worked figures in his head and tried to wrap his head around how expensive the coat actually was. Two whole paychecks was almost an entire month of work.

Luckily, something stole Blaine’s attention away from his worries, and he watched the laptop screen as the Kurt and Blaine sims began to flirt without his prompting, little plus signs forming above their heads; it brought a smile to Blaine’s face as laughter bubbled up from within him. It worked like magic, cheering him up tremendously, and Blaine thought it was worth sharing with Kurt. Certainly, he would get a kick out of it too. Without too much consideration, he sent Kurt a text to tell him how funny he thought it was, and Kurt texted back, agreeing. They bade each other goodnight, and Blaine, now exhausted, eventually closed his laptop and set it aside. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes to welcome sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt was walking with his head down toward the doors of the high school, his eyes fixed on his phone screen, not paying much attention to where he was going. There was a scowl on his face as he furiously typed away into the text message box.

**Kurt**

_Did you know that Mercedes’ new duet partner is Sam?!_

**Blaine**

_What?! I had no idea. He never told me anything._

**Kurt**

_I guess that solves the mystery of their disappearances. Who would have thought they were sneaking around together behind our backs?_

**Blaine**

_I can’t believe it._

Kurt finally looked up just in time to avoid colliding with the side-entrance door, and he pushed through, making a beeline for his locker. But he passed right by his own locker, stopping instead a few lockers down the row, and tapped Mercedes firmly on the shoulder.

An absolute bitch glare greeted her when she turned.

“Whoa there, Kurt,” she said, holding her hands up and leaning back a little to create space. “Is this about the Sam thing?”

“I can’t believe you never told me! I mean, he’s Blaine’s _best friend_! Chrissake, Mercedes. Did you think it was something you had to hide from me?”

“No, but...” she let out an aggravated sigh. “It’s kinda complicated, and we’re a little more than duet partners—”

“Oh my god!” Kurt slapped his hand over his mouth, not meaning to shout like that. “Do you mean you two are dating?” he spoke through his fingers, his voice slightly muffled.

Mercedes shushed him, glancing around. “We got to talking after glee club one day, and it sorta just...happened. Then we realized that we wanted to sing a duet since we were already spending so much time together. Besides, you and Blaine have been getting pretty cozy, haven’t you?”

“Are you the one who—? Wait a minute. What has Sam said—? Has Blaine said anything about me?”

Mercedes tried her best to hold in a laugh. She nodded, flashing him a bright, toothy grin. “Sam told me not to tell you, but Blaine likes you. Like, _really_ likes you. He talks about you _all_ the time, and that’s why Sam and I sorta tried to force you two together...” She shrugged, trying to look innocent. 

As mad and baffled as Kurt was by the revelation, he felt surprisingly calm. “Then I have to thank you. Thanks to your sneaky, conniving, scheming ways, Blaine and I have gotten to spend time together, and I’m really getting to know him.”

“And?”

“And he’s wonderful, Mercedes.” Kurt sighed, falling back to lean against the lockers. “He’s kinda shy but really sweet and polite. He has the loveliest voice, can dance like it’s as natural as breathing, and I found out that he can play instruments by ear, even though he hasn’t had any classical training or formal lessons.”

“So you’re not mad at me for ditching you?”

“It wasn’t nice, and I’m very mad at you,” he said, but the smile that crept onto his face as he tried to scold her betrayed him.

Mercedes reached up and gently pinched and patted Kurt’s cheek, chuckling as she pulled her hand away. “You better keep me updated, Hummel. That boy is a catch, and if you don’t reel him in, then I’ll be very disappointed in you.”

“God, Mercedes. What would I do without you? You know I love you,” Kurt said.

“I do.” She wrapped her arms around Kurt and gave him a brief hug. “And I love you, Kurt Hummel,” Mercedes said as she pulled away, “and I did what I did only because I want you to be happy.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They shared a smile and a tender moment of silence before turning and heading toward homeroom, walking arm-in-arm through the congested hallway.

-s-

Deep breaths, Blaine told himself as he stood front and center before his show choir peers. He glanced to his side, Kurt’s presence beside him and his reassuring smile calming him.

The first chord was played on the guitar, and Blaine focused on the task at hand, coming in on his cue and singing out, and, when Kurt’s voice confidently joined in, Blaine’s own confidence began to build. It wasn’t how they had practiced it; it was even better, and it felt amazing to be up there singing their hearts out. They hadn’t planned choreography, but they moved in a natural way to the music, mostly bobbing in place, shifting fluidly around each other, and at one point Blaine was getting so into it that he grabbed Kurt’s arms and then broke out into the rap portion, receiving astonished and impressed looks from those in the audience.

When the song was through, the room broke out into applause, and Mr. Schuester was the loudest.

“That was really, really great, you guys,” Mr. Schuester said, bringing his hands together one last time, a grin splitting his face.

Santana was the last one applauding, slow clapping and shaking her head. “Oh, Blaine. That was both the most touching thing I’ve ever heard and the most horrendous rapping I’ve ever had to endure. You’re like a little Eurasian, significantly more pasty Kevin G.”

“Why, thank you, Santana,” Blaine said, sneering playfully at her comment and bowing slightly. She laughed, and he knew she was only teasing him, causing him no offense and only amusement and appreciation for the _Mean Girls_ reference.

Kurt and Blaine took small bows and then returned to their seats in the front row. When Blaine turned to look behind him, Sam gave him two thumbs up from where he was sitting beside Mercedes. Ever since Blaine found out that Sam and Mercedes had teamed up for duets, they’d basically swapped seat partners, and the seat next to Kurt was fast becoming Blaine’s permanent spot. He had no complaints. It was a welcome change.

After all the duets were performed, there wasn’t much time left to rehearse, so Mr. Schuester dismissed the group a little early. 

Kurt shouldered the strap of his messenger bag and then gingerly grabbed Blaine’s arm. “Blaine? Even though we’re finished with duets, I was wondering if you’d like to come over again.”

Blaine had been gathering his things, and Kurt’s question suddenly reminded him that he had to return the coat. “Yeah, but I need to go to my locker first.”

“Okay,” Kurt said.

He walked with Blaine down the halls, and when Blaine popped his locker open, he pulled out Kurt’s Burberry coat and thrust it into his hands.

“What—? Why are you giving this back? It’s gonna get even colder out, and you’ll need it,” Kurt said, holding it back out to Blaine.

Blaine shook his head. “I was only borrowing it, and now I’m giving it back.” He pushed it back toward Kurt.

“Blaine,” Kurt said more forcefully, sounding hurt. “I’m not taking this back.”

“I can’t take your coat.” Blaine was getting frustrated and mildly flustered.

“Why not? I told you, it’s not a big deal. I have sev—”

“I’m not a charity case, _Kurt_!”

Kurt reluctantly withdrew the coat this time, gripping it tightly against his chest. He stared at Blaine, hurt and sadness in his eyes, and then his gaze dropped to the coat. He brushed it lightly with his fingers and then ran his hand over it. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” he muttered. “I understand if you don’t wanna go to my house.”

“No, that’s not the problem, Kurt.” Blaine slowly shook his head, feeling ashamed, and carded his fingers through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I liked being at your house. It’s just, I’m still getting used to being around you, and it was kinda weird for me to meet your parents and eat dinner with everyone. I haven’t sat down to a family dinner in years. And then this coat—it’s—it’s nice, but it’s too much.”  

“I understand...how about a more neutral place, somewhere public we can hang out?” Kurt suggested. “There’s the coffee shop a few blocks, away, The Lima Bean.”

“You mean that place with the fancy five-dollar coffees?”

“Yeah, it’ll be my treat.”

“Kurt.”

“If you won’t take the jacket, then at least let me buy you coffee.”

Blaine groaned, not wanting to accept anything from him, but the look on Kurt’s face was so pitiful that he couldn’t refuse him this one request. Besides, he wanted to spend time with Kurt, he really did. Letting something petty come between them would ruin everything. “Fine,” he said, giving in. “Let’s go for coffee.”

-s-

Blaine fiddled with the lid of his coffee cup, struggling a bit to properly fix it on, and Kurt watched him from across the table, taking a few sips from his own cup.

After blowing on the hot beverage, Blaine took a tiny sip, still managing to scald his tongue, and pulled back, setting the cup down and bringing his hand to his mouth.

He laid both hands down to rest on the tabletop. “You know...” Blaine began, barely able to look Kurt in the eye. He began to trace tiny patterns with his fingertip over the dark, polished wood surface. “You drove me here, ordered, and paid for me...this feels awfully like a date.”

“Maybe I want it to be,” Kurt said boldly and without missing a beat.

Shocked by the response, Blaine grew quiet, giving himself an excuse to not talk by busying his mouth with the coffee again. Here he was, sitting across from Kurt Hummel, someone who was way out of his league, extremely high maintenance, talented, strong-willed, confident, and breathtaking, and he’d only dreamed of the possibility of dating him, never truly believing it was something that could become his reality. Now that it was presented to him and in such a blunt manner, Blaine didn’t know what to do with it, and he choked, finding it impossible to respond at all.

Terrified that he’d upset Blaine and that he’d completely blown it, Kurt blurted out a panicked apology. “I’m sorry...I was only joking.” But he _had_ meant what he said, and it was difficult to read Blaine.

“It was really nice of you to invite me here, but I think I want to go home,” Blaine finally spoke. He needed proper time to think all of this over. He was embarrassed and angry at himself for not being able to express how he truly felt in that moment, and he couldn’t face Kurt.

“Okay,” Kurt said in a small voice. Despite his disappointment, he wasn’t going to argue at all. They’d done enough of that for today—enough for a lifetime, as far as Kurt was concerned.

Partially full coffee cups in hand, Kurt and Blaine left the coffee shop, the November air hitting them and feeling even more bitter as they stepped out into it and hurried toward the car.

-s-

Blaine sat in his bed, hunched over his laptop, covers wrapped up around his shoulders. In a daze, he watched the sims move around in the dream house Kurt had built. Blaine placed his head in his hand and heaved out a sigh, sniffling as he fought back tears.

Since his last session, the Kurt and Blaine sims had entered into a romantic relationship, little hearts popping up every time they interacted, and they hugged and kissed with a simple command. Blaine watched this digital world with his digital self, longing to be closer to Kurt, the real Kurt, but he couldn’t figure out what was holding him back. What was he so afraid of?

Blaine lightly pressed his fingertips to the screen, sniffling again.

Everything was so simple on the goddamned game—life, work, love, family, stability. And there were cheat codes for the things that didn’t come as easily at first. Although meant to be a simulation of reality, this virtual reality was pure, unadulterated, oversimplified fiction, and Blaine resented the fact that things didn’t come easier to him in real life and that he couldn’t just cheat code his problems away. He couldn’t tell his friend that he liked him more than just a friend, couldn’t take that next step and take the risk, knowing that something much greater could come out of it.

Blaine was allowing his insecurities to defeat him, torturing himself with the question of whether Kurt actually likes him for him or if Kurt just sees him as someone who needs him and who needs to be taken care of, a concern that developed following the coat incident. He was afraid that, of all the things Kurt had to offer, Kurt didn’t know or understand that he had exactly what Blaine needed, but it wasn’t material at all.

The Kurt sim turned on the stereo and pulled the Blaine sim into a dance, and Blaine shut the laptop, tossing it aside, before flopping back onto his bed and burying his face in his pillow.


	12. Chapter 12

Winter break was just around the corner, beckoning the restless students of McKinley High, and it was guaranteed to be vastly different than their time off in summer. Since the schools had merged and the Lima Heights kids joined the show choir, a lot had shifted in terms of who was spending time with whom. Puck had been hanging around the cheerleaders and started attending games and parties in Lima with Finn, Sam and Mercedes had paired off, and Kurt and Blaine were now hanging out frequently. No one really knew what Santana had been up to, except that she seemed to have grown quite fond of Brittany.

Ever since the Lima Bean incident, there had been a silent agreement between Kurt and Blaine to not speak about it. Except for the initial awkwardness it created, once time passed, nothing really changed, and they let themselves fall back into a comfortable friendship.

They were growing so close that Blaine had Kurt’s schedule memorized, including his after-school activities: student council every Monday, show choir every Tuesday and Thursday, and literary magazine every Wednesday. Regardless of how busy Kurt was, Blaine had the pleasure of seeing him almost every day, and Kurt always made time for him.

Going to Kurt’s house became a regular thing for them, and they’d spend the majority of their time down in the basement bedroom that Kurt and Finn shared. It gave Blaine a place to go after school that was quiet but wasn’t a lonely, empty house, and he was grateful for the company and a homework companion. Kurt didn’t mind driving Blaine back and forth, especially when he got to spend his down time with Blaine, and he was ever mindful and considerate of when Blaine wanted to stay or go.

The school day had been long and filled with exhausting exams, and they’d retreated to the basement to decompress. Blaine was stretched out on his stomach, lounging on Kurt’s bed, flipping leisurely through a magazine. Another stack of magazines fell onto the mattress, and then it dipped as Kurt climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling the issue off the top for himself.

“I never really understood these fashion magazines. Most of what’s in here are flashy ads for expensive bags, makeup, and perfumes,” Blaine commented.

“That’s because most of the really good stuff, the reading material, is online now, but ever since I found my mom’s old collection of Vogue magazines, I’ve always just loved having the physical thing in my hand and being able to feel and smell the pages. You don’t really _read_ Vogue, anyway. It’s an experience, like going to a museum. It’s more about the looks, all the pictures of clothing and accessories. Each advertisement is a well-crafted work of photography, and _everything_ the models wear, how they’re styled, is important—it’s the fashion. It’s art.” 

Blaine flipped the magazine closed, his one hand still acting as a placeholder. “The covers are pretty. There’s always a beautiful celebrity in something nice.” He flipped it back open and resumed paging through it, trying hard to see what Kurt meant when he spoke so passionately about the style and the fashion. “I understand the makeup, contouring and color matching and all that. My mom sells Mary Kay, and I like to listen to her talk about it.” Blaine touched the present page, tracing over the lines of a dress on a model in a jewelry ad, noticing the shape and the way it fit her body. “I think I get it now. The details here are exquisite.”

“There are some articles that start towards the middle if you want to read a bit,” Kurt explained. “While I don’t go to Vogue when I have a hankering for a good story or bit of literature, I do enjoy reading the bits they have about health and beauty and when they feature designers.”

“You write a little, don’t you?” Blaine asked. “Have you ever thought about writing for a magazine like Vogue? You really seem to know your stuff.”

“I dabble in it, as you know, but mostly poetry for the literary magazine that approximately five people read—and there are about five people in the club. It’s nothing too special.” Kurt shrugged, turning the page in his magazine. “It would be wonderful to write articles about fashion though. Maybe someday.”

“You could totally do it,” Blaine said.

Kurt smiled wistfully at Blaine.

They never really discussed their dreams or plans for after high school, but Blaine knew Kurt was so incredibly talented and smart, and he believed he could do anything he set his mind to. The more he learned about him and his various talents and passions, the more impressed he became, admiring everything about Kurt.

-s-

During their first ever sleepover, which took a lot of convincing on Kurt’s part to get Blaine to stay for, they took over the television in the living room to watch a movie. Kurt hadn’t shut up about how he couldn’t believe that, of all the musicals in existence, Blaine had only seen _My Fair Lady_ and _Bye Bye Birdie_ , and he felt like it was his duty to introduce Blaine to more musicals like _Hairspray_ and _Grease_ , and, tonight’s selection, _Rent_.

Blaine was mostly quiet throughout the majority of the film, and at one point he was overwhelmed with emotion and began to cry silently, quickly wiping his face dry, hoping that Kurt hadn’t noticed.

_“How we gonna pay? How we gonna pay?_

_How we gonna pay? Last year's rent?”_

_How were they going to pay the mortgage? Afford the bills to keep the utilities on? On several occasions, Blaine had heard his mom sobbing in her bedroom, a complete wreck. She’d tried to protect him, to hide and shelter him from the full extent of their situation. He was just a child. They had reached a considerably low point where they had to sell some of their belongings to keep the power on...the piano...the car...the television..._

He really enjoyed the movie, though, laughing at the funny parts and falling in love with Angel and her storyline. When the movie was over, Kurt wanted to know everything Blaine thought about it.

“I really liked it,” was all Blaine wanted to share. Because of the heavy nature of the musical, it took a while for Blaine to digest it. He’d found it raw, beautiful, and haunting. The poverty it depicted was nothing like his reality, but there were aspects about it that he could relate to and knew all too well, and it opened old wounds that hadn’t completely healed.

Blaine found that all he really needed to feel better was a good night’s sleep, which he got, curled up in the comfort of Finn’s bed while Finn was overnight at a friend’s house.

The next morning, Blaine woke up refreshed, and once they’d readied themselves for the day, Kurt told Blaine he had a surprise for him. They were going to one of Kurt’s favorite places in Lima, but they had to eat brunch before they did. Well-fed and bellies full, they left the house to embark on their mini-excursion.

In the car, Kurt played the _Wicked_ soundtrack from his phone and sang along. Although _Wicked_ was easily Kurt’s favorite Broadway show and he played the songs often, Blaine still wasn’t familiar enough to have learned the lyrics, but he hummed the tunes he recognized, delighting in the enthusiastic one-man show Kurt was putting on behind the wheel.

When they reached their mystery destination, Kurt pulled the car into a space in a small lot, and Blaine looked over his shoulder to read the sign on the building.

“‘Sara’s Sweets’?”

“This is my favorite bakery in town. They have the best cupcakes that are to die for! Just wait until you see the variety and all the neat flavors they make.”

“You had me at cupcakes.”

Kurt’s excitement was contagious, and Blaine couldn’t turn down the offer of baked goods, eager to find out what those neat flavors were. The buzzer sounded when they entered, and Kurt hurried over to an area that seemed to be his favorite.

Kurt was peering into the display case, pointing out certain ones. “I like to splurge on the mini ones when I can, but I have to get clever and hide them from my dad.”

“Are you not supposed to eat them?”

“No, my dad isn’t supposed to eat them. He was put on a diet recently to keep his heart healthy. I’ve found that having a sweet tooth is genetic in my family, and if I don’t hide them, they disappear. Not to mention, Finn will eat anything in sight.”

“That one looks really good!” Blaine said, his eyes wide and bright as he pointed to the Oreo mudslide cupcake. He let out a soft almost sinful moan, and without even a slight hesitation, Kurt flagged down the woman behind the counter and ordered two of them.

“So you like sweets too, then?” Kurt asked as they made their way out of the bakery, carrying the cupcakes neatly packaged in a pink and white box.

“I love cakes and pies and cookies, but my mom doesn’t buy stuff like that very often. It’s usually just a treat for special occasions, like birthdays.”

“It’s good to know we have that in common too,” Kurt said.

They really did, Blaine was finding out, have a lot more in common than he’d ever imagined. Blaine wasn’t a fashionista and couldn’t afford designer brands, but he had always liked clothes and admired how people could put looks together and look so put together. He loved singing and the Broadway musicals he’d seen on VHS as a child, but it’d never been more than a casual interest since he’d not had any opportunity to train his voice or learn an instrument. It was true that Kurt was from an entirely different world, but Blaine was finding that so much of Kurt’s world was also a part of his own.

Yet, when it came to the finer things in life, Blaine was often on the outside looking in. Blaine would love to be able to train and perform, to go to shows and see live productions, and to go shopping for nice clothes and keep up with the latest fashion trends. As his friendship with Kurt grew, he was discovering parts of himself that had been suppressed and hidden, and he was seeing more of himself in Kurt, what Blaine might have been, had he lived a different life and come from a different place. Rather than envying or resenting Kurt, Blaine clung to him instead and embraced those little bits of Kurt’s world that he could share with him.

-s-

The first snow of the season began just in time for winter break, a few days prior to Christmas, and it was difficult for students to concentrate on their lessons while the shimmering white flakes were falling in abundance, whirling about in the air just outside the windows.

When the final bell of the day rang, there was a rush to lockers, everyone eager to get home and start their holiday break. Blaine was a little less enthusiastic than most and trudged along, knowing that break meant spending an awkward weekend at his dad’s house and being stuck inside from the cold with little opportunity to see any of his friends. This year was going to be worse than most because he wasn’t sure if he’d even get to see Kurt, and he was going to miss him a lot.

But when Blaine reached his locker, there was a familiar face waiting for him wearing an impish grin, and in his hands was a relatively small wrapped gift, ribbon, bow and all.

“Kurt, I didn’t know we were getting each other presents,” Blaine whined, pouting.

“Just open it, Blaine. Trust me,” Kurt said, shoving the small, wrapped box into his hands.

“But I hate that I don’t have anything for you,” Blaine said, carefully pulling off the bow and peeling back the wrapping. He was scared that Kurt had gone out and bought him some elaborate gift, and there was no way he could ever match it and wasn’t sure he’d be able to accept it. Underneath the decorative paper was a blue tupperware container, and when Blaine registered that its contents were homemade chocolate chip cookies, a thousand-watt smile broke across his face. He couldn’t have been happier or more relieved that instead of buying something for him, Kurt had baked him cookies. Blaine looked up into Kurt’s eyes, feeling incredibly overwhelmed. “Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome, but I should probably warn you about something...”

“What?”

“You have to share.”

Blaine laughed, and he wanted so badly to throw his arms around Kurt right then and there.

“Fine by me,” Blaine said. “As long as it’s with you.”

“Why, of course. I’ll let you get your stuff. Make sure you bundle up, and then meet me out at my car.”

“Okay,” Blaine said, still beaming as Kurt practically skipped away down the hall.

Snow and salt crunched beneath the soles of Blaine’s boots as he made his way across the student lot, and he found Kurt sitting on the hood of his SUV, legs crossed, completely bundled up in a hat, thick, wool scarf, long wool trench coat, and knee-high snow boots. His legs were crossed, and his gaze was skyward as he watched the snow continue to fall, much lighter now, as if it was about to let up.

Kurt saw Blaine approaching out of the corner of his eye, and he waved him forward, inviting Blaine to climb up to sit on the hood beside him.

Blaine settled down and pulled his scarf down from around his mouth. “I have the goods.” He held the container out, popping off the lid to reveal the cookies.  

They laughed as Kurt reached in and picked out a cookie with a gloved hand. He took a generous bite, and then Blaine plucked out a cookie for himself, moaning and feeling the chocolate chips melt in his mouth when he took a bite. They were soft and gooey and felt almost warm compared to the chilly December air.

“These are heavenly,” Blaine said, quickly taking another bite. “I think I could eat all of these...and probably make myself sick.”

“Then I’d call them sinful instead of heavenly. Tomato, tomahto I guess,” Kurt jested. “But I’m happy they came out so good...and that you like them.”

“I do, I really do. The cookies were such a thoughtful present.” Blaine’s eyes met Kurt’s, and he smiled.

Kurt’s cheeks were rosy from sitting out in the snow, and when he smiled and laughed, it touched Blaine’s heart and made him feel warm from his core to the tips of his toes and fingers. In that moment, Blaine was beginning to believe he was in love with Kurt. His gaze dropped to Kurt’s mouth as his tongue darted out to lick a few crumbs and a bit of chocolate from his bottom lip, and it took everything within Blaine to resist the urge to close the space between them and plant the biggest, sweetest kiss on Kurt’s mouth.

Light flakes continued to fall around them, landing in Blaine’s uncovered curls and making his hair frizz and curl up more from the moisture.

Blaine shivered, reaching for another cookie. “I’ll have just one more so I won't spoil dinner. My mom’ll be home early, so she’ll want me there.”

Kurt scooted a little closer to Blaine, leaning his head toward him. “Are you trying to get away from me so soon?”

“No, but it’s cold outside, and—”

“Your mother might start to worry?” Kurt singsonged, waggling his eyebrows and then giggling at the look on Blaine’s face.

Blaine grinned bashfully. “Of all the Christmas duets we could sing, that one would be in my top choices. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine, too. Too bad Mr. Schue didn’t give us a holiday duet assignment.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame. We’d sound so good singing it.”

Kurt rubbed his thighs and uncrossed his legs. “Well, right now’s probably a good time to tell you that there’s another part to your gift. Don’t worry! It’s just hot chocolate, and it’s in a mug in my car. We can drink it on the way to drop you off at your house.”  

Blaine wasn’t ready to go home just yet, wanting to remain in Kurt’s company for as long as possible, huddled up close to him as a winter wonderland formed all around them. He wanted to capture this perfect moment, commit every detail to memory, and he was lost in thought and enraptured as he stared into Kurt’s eyes again before finally blinking and nodding once.

“All right.” Blaine took a deep breath, feeling his heart beating hard in his chest. “Let’s go drink that hot chocolate.”

-s-

Blaine pressed the pillow over his head, trying his damndest to muffle the incessant banging on the guest bedroom door. With a groan, he pressed his face into the mattress.

The banging wouldn’t cease and only grew louder the longer he tried to ignore it.

“Open the door, Squirt!”

Blaine finally rolled over and shouted, “Go away!”  

“I’m not going anywhere until you unlock this door and let me in!”

“Why can’t you take a hint and let me be? I don’t wanna talk to you, Cooper!”

“Well, guess what, you already are, so you might as well open the door.”

“Fine, you fucking smartass,” Blaine growled, climbing out of the bed and stumbling toward the door.

As soon as the lock clicked open, Cooper pushed his way in, closing the door again behind him.

“Now, was that so hard?”

Blaine looked up contemptuously at the man who towered a few inches above him, meeting his almost taunting blue eyes. It was unsettling how much his brother looked like their dad, while Blaine had inherited his height and complexion from their mom. Blaine wondered if it would kill their mom if Cooper actually did come around to visit. He crossed his arms and huffed, turning his head away.

“What do you want, Coop?” Blaine said darkly.

“To talk to my little brother and to hang out, like normal siblings.”

“Nothing about us is normal,” Blaine said. “You never even come around, and you expect me to be all happy-go-lucky about seeing you? I barely even know you. You went away to college when I was in fifth grade, and then it was like Mom and I were dead to you.”

“Don’t throw that it my face, Blaine,” Cooper warned. “Don’t try to make me feel guilty about wanting to do something with my life.”

“If you feel guilty, it’s because you know you fucked up.”

“You’re a little ass, you know that, _Blainey_?” he condescended. “You don’t know my life, and you don’t know how hard it’s been for me, too.”

“What was hard, going to college and majoring in theatre? What was so hard for you, huh? Acting? Pretending to be something you’re not? Becoming a professional liar? You didn’t need college for that—or Dad’s money.”

“Oh, okay, I see what this is about. Dad’s money,” he scoffed. “Listen, Blaine. You’re still too young to understand, but when you get an opportunity like that, you should take it.”

“I’m sixteen, and I’m old enough to understand that you shouldn’t take it if it’s morally compromising and incredibly selfish.”

Cooper let out a low whistle. “Maybe you’re smarter than I thought you were,” he said, every word dripping with sarcasm. “Pulling out some big words.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s more like it, back to the profanity. Are you ever gonna grow up and leave behind that Lima Heights mentality? Or are you going to stay trash and fester there?”

“It’s none of your business what I plan to do with my life, just like you made Mom none of your business and abandoned her. Just like Dad. Regardless, whatever I choose to do, I’m gonna do it on my own.”

“I don’t get it. Did you want me to be your superman? To swoop in and save you when times got rough?”

“No,” Blaine said.

“Then what did you expect from me? I was only eighteen, two years older than you are now.”

“You could have stayed.”

“But I didn’t, and the rest is history.”

“You’re right, and we’re not living in the past. Maybe I...maybe I just wanted a big brother, not someone I only have vague memories of. But it’s too late for that now. You live in LA, and you have your life, and I’m not a part of it.”

“You could always come visit.”

“No, I can’t, and you know that.”  

Cooper heaved out a sigh and grasped the doorknob. “Well, anyway...I’m so glad we could catch up and have such a nice, warm, loving chat. ‘Tis the season, am I right? Whether you want Dad’s money or not, there are presents downstairs for you, so you should drag your punkass out of bed and at least show your face and pretend to be grateful.”

Cooper left, shutting the door forcefully on his way out.

On Christmas morning, Blaine was haunted and visited by many ghosts of his past, but there was hardly a lesson to be learned there. Cooper had flown in from Los Angeles to grace them with his presence, and Blaine couldn’t stand him, how he seemed to be rubbing his new life in his face. Being stuck at his Dad’s with his new wife and her snot-nosed little kids had been bad enough, and Blaine just wanted to lay low and make it through the weekend, but the appearance of his older brother complicated things.

Blaine was worried it really was too late to make amends with his brother, who, because of their age difference and Cooper’s choices, was practically a stranger. One of the reasons Blaine was glad there was no television at their house was that he didn’t have to turn it on and see Cooper in one of his cheesy free credit rating commercials with the catchy jingle.

Opening presents was relatively painless, and when Blaine unwrapped the smaller one of his two gifts, he balked at it and then peered up at his dad.

Blaine swallowed hard. “You bought me an iPhone?”

“Isn’t that what all the kids have these days? The guy at the store who helped me told me that was the best one. It’s already activated and has an unlimited plan,” his dad added nonchalantly.

“I—I guess it is. Thank you.”

The second, much larger present was a signed Bengals jersey, and Blaine thanked him for it as well. It was the same thing every year: a video game or small electronic gadget and something football-related, the two things his dad remembered about him liking and that luckily hadn’t changed. Blaine couldn’t expect his dad to know how many things really had changed about him over the years—most recently, Blaine’s rekindled love for music, musicals, and performing, his new, growing affinity for nice clothing, and his new best friend, the boy he’d grown close to and fallen in love with over the past few months.

When Blaine retreated to the guest room, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent out a text.

**Blaine**

_How was your holiday?_

**Kurt**

_It was wonderful. Yours?_

**Blaine**

_Not so wonderful._

**Kurt**

_I’m sorry._

**Blaine**

_Can I call you?_

**Kurt**

_Of course. :)_

Talking to Kurt was easy and alleviated much of the stress of being at his dad’s. Kurt always seemed to have that effect on him, helping him escape his reality, if only for brief moments at a time. Kurt’s voice, his laugh, his smile, transported Blaine to a place where he felt hopeful and happy, warm and content, and like the world could be crashing down around him but as long as Kurt was there, he would be just fine.

With Kurt, it was easy to forget about the things he didn’t have and the things that held him back.

“Merry Christmas,” Blaine said through a yawn, rolling over onto his side in the bed.

“Merry Christmas, Blaine,” Kurt echoed, and Blaine could hear the smile in his voice.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *BIG warnings for this chapter!*
> 
> First of all, it can be (mostly) skipped without missing Klaine plot.
> 
> That being said, this chapter is Santana/Quinn/Puck-centric. There is abusive language and mention of abortion. If it bothers you to read about, you can skip/scroll down to the final section/scene which contains only Sam and Blaine and acts as a summary and transition. 
> 
> I apologize to those who do not wish to read this chapter, but it is crucial to the story and basically ties up Santana and Puck's storyline before the focus becomes almost exclusively Klaine again.

School came back into session with a roar.

The time off from school had acted as a culture in which rumors began to grow and spread like a communicable disease, getting under the skin of several students, eating at them, and riling up many.

It had been one particular New Year’s Eve party, attended by both Lima and Lima Heights kids, where the fuse was lit, setting off the explosion in the hallway on the first day back. Sam had let something slip during lunch that sent Santana into a full-blown rage. No one around was safe from the fallout. Santana couldn’t exhibit subtlety if she tried, and she certainly had no intention of doing so. Subtlety wasn’t in her vocabulary. She wanted to be heard. Loud and clear.

“Don’t you walk away from me, you ratchet bitch!”

Quinn whipped around, eyes wide and horrified.

Santana moved in on her, now only a few paces away, and she appeared capable of murder.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?! You thought he wouldn’t tell me?! So, the rumors are true. Puta!” she spat. “Quinn, perfect little blonde bimbo cheerleader Quinn, went and slept with Noah Puckerman!”

“Back off!” Quinn had tears of rage in her eyes now. “You don’t know the whole story!”

“No, you didn’t have to be a whore and should have kept your legs closed!”

“Like you have any right to talk to me like that,” Quinn said through gritted teeth. “He’s not even your boyfriend!”

“And you went and—you wish he was anything more than a drunken fuck. News flash, you’ve been had by Lima Heights trash. _My_ sloppy seconds! And I’d hit you if you weren’t _pregnant_!”

The entire hallway went silent, the crowd staring on in total shock. And then the whispering started.

Quinn lost it, tears streaming from her eyes, and she covered her face, turned, and bolted down the hallway toward the bathroom.

A strong hand wrapped around Santana’s upper arm, the grip tightening, and she nearly swung at the perpetrator until she realized it was Puck. He pulled her aside and down a side hallway, spinning her around to look her in the eye.

“What’s gotten into you, Santana? You need to calm down and back off of Quinn!”

“If she didn’t go and—”

“I mean it, Santana! It’s not fair how you’re treating her.”

“That’s right, you’re the one who stuck your dick in blondie and knocked her up.”

“C’mon...”

“No, you ‘c’mon’! You’re the reason the Lima kids think we’re all trash.”

Puck took a deep breath, and, although he was pissed, he managed to stay calm and levelheaded. He knew Santana well enough to know that she’s hurtful and has a habit of going right for the throat, but she says things she doesn’t mean without thinking. “We all make mistakes. Listen. You know we’re _all_ guilty of poor judgment.”

“Don’t,” Santana warned, knowing where Puck was going with this. She wanted desperately to stick her fingers in her ears and scream.

“You and me...we made the same mistake not that long ago. I thought that after the hell we both went through to take care of it, that things would get better. I didn’t mean to do the same to Quinn. It just happened, and it’s too late to take it back.”

Santana was fighting back tears, her lip quivering uncontrollably.

_...it’s too late to take it back._

_...it’s too late..._

They had only been fourteen.

They’d panicked, and Puck stole some of his mom’s things and pawned them off, hoping to scrape enough money together to pay for the procedure. He succeeded, but he got caught and sentenced and thrown into juvie. They thought he’d done it to buy drugs, and he let them believe the lie over the truth. To protect her. To protect them. They’d managed to keep it under wraps even to this day.

Not even Blaine or Sam ever knew about it.

“God, Noah...” Her voice was shaking, and her throat was tight. Santana never used his first name unless it was serious. “Fuck.”

He took her in his arms and held her to him, and Santana didn’t resist at all, finally allowing herself to cry. She could clearly hear the thumping of his heart in his chest, and she closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as more tears escaped.

In reflex, Puck absently stroked her hair as he spoke more softly, soothingly. “No one here is any better than anyone else. We’re all human, and money doesn’t change certain things and the choices we make. She’s not having an easy time of it. Her father freaked when he found out, and her parents have been fighting so much that she thinks they’re getting a divorce.”

Santana softened a bit at the revelation and pulled away, wiping at her face. She saw Puck’s earnest expression and knew he wasn’t bullshitting her, but she couldn’t believe it. She’d always seen Quinn as this perfect girl who had everything come easy to her—popularity, beauty, academic success—a girl who was living the perfect life. But now she was beginning to see that maybe Quinn was just as broken as she was; she was only human, not some Barbie doll with the painted-on smile. She was hurting right now just like Santana, and she knew her pain. Santana realized how much more unbearable it must be for everyone to know...and she felt sick to her stomach knowing that she’d personally been the one to out her.

Santana recalled how frightened she’d been, a fourteen-year-old girl going to the clinic with only Puck by her side, her only support, her confidant, her best friend and partner in crime. They’d been stupid, so stupid.

As she stood there speechless, still staring into the face of the boy at the end of both ropes, connecting her to the girl in whose place she’d once stood, she was overcome with remorse for what she’d said and for how she’d treated Quinn.

“I need to go,” Santana said, backing up and taking off through the school.

-s-

The choir room had finally emptied out, but, needing to get everything off her chest, Santana had dawdled and hung back to speak with Quinn.

“Quinn.”

“Stay away from me. What is your problem?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You—what?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “and I wanted to talk to you and apologize for what I did and said yesterday. I didn’t mean it, and you didn’t deserve that.”

Quinn blinked at her, completely taken aback. “Thank you.”

“I—I know what you’re dealing with right now...at home. Puck told me.”

Quinn groaned, but she sounded more defeated than anything. “So all my dirty laundry has been aired. I don’t know how I managed to get myself into this mess—I mean, I know _how_ it happened—but I’m just trying to do my best to deal with it now.”

“Deal with it?” Santana said, her eyes exuding worry. “Do you mean...?”

“I’m keeping the baby. I want to keep it...him...or her.”

Santana didn’t think, she just moved forward and hugged Quinn who stiffened in her arms, but she let her go just as quickly.

“That was unexpected,” Quinn said.

“Sometimes Auntie Tana comes out, and I can’t help but get a little mushy.”

“I kind of needed that anyway,” Quinn said, finally finding it possible to smile.

“So, Puck’s kind of a jerk, huh?” Santana said. “He’s my best friend, but he has a knack for getting into trouble and screwing people over. Shit happens, and it was unfair of me to blame you for everything. You know, I don’t know why I never gave you a chance. We’re in show choir together, and I’m stuck here at your school, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at least try to get along.”

“I never had a problem with you,” Quinn said. “In fact, I always thought you were pretty cool, a badass who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or join things like glee club. Brittany never has bad things to say about you, either, and she talks about you a lot.”

“Maybe I’m a bitch because I’m jealous of you...all of you. You’re pretty and popular and always look flawless, and you’ve got every guy practically begging at your feet.”

“Yeah, but have you seen most of the guys here at McKinley? Trust me, it’s not exactly great. It’s more a curse than a blessing, to be honest.”

Santana chuckled. “I like you. I guess that’s why you took a dip in the Lima Heights pool of guys. Trust me, they aren’t much better.”

Quinn patted her belly and rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to realize that,” she said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Santana now felt a pull to this girl like she’d never felt before. It wasn’t like an attraction, though Quinn was like a diamond in a pile of coal, and her beauty, fair skin, and gentle curves had not gone unnoticed. No, there was someone else who’d recently captured Santana’s attention and her heart. She felt protective of Quinn, like she now had a duty to make sure no one harmed this girl and the child she was now carrying inside her. Santana didn’t have any siblings, but she imagined this must be how it felt to have a sister, someone she’d lay down in front of a train for if it meant she’d be safe and wouldn’t have to endure her pain.

-s-

“Did you hear what happened between Santana and Quinn?” Sam asked.

The bus rolled and rumbled along the road, startling both when it hit a pothole and sent them bouncing up in their seats.

“I’m pretty sure everyone in the school and the state of Ohio heard what happened,” Blaine said, gripping the back of the seat in front of them. “But they look like they’re best friends now. Whenever I see Santana around, she’s with Quinn and Brittany.”

Sam stared out the window for a moment, a storefront catching his eye, and then he turned back to Blaine.

“Girls are so confusing sometimes. I thought for sure Santana was going to eat Quinn alive.”

“It’s definitely strange, but at least they’re getting along now. It makes glee club a lot more peaceful, and since we have a competition coming up we need to work together if we want to win.”

“Oh yeah, I still need to get my permission slip signed and back to Mr. Schue. We’re going to be performing on, like, a real stage in front of a huge audience.”

“It’s not that much different than performing on a field when the bleachers are full,” Blaine said. “You have to remember your choreography, the lights are burning on you, and we still need to depend on each other as a team.”

“I never really thought about it like that.”

“You’ll be fine,” Blaine said, laying a comforting hand on Sam’s back. “We’ve practiced and even over-rehearsed everything. It’s gonna be great.”


	14. Chapter 14

As the new year progressed, a surprising sense of harmony began to emerge at McKinley High. Although it had taken a few months, the tensions between Lima Heights and McKinley students had all but dissipated, and Lima Heights kids were being more accepted and assimilated into the school. McKinley students had gotten used to sharing spaces, the halls were generally peaceful and more orderly, and students from both schools were intermingling and even dating those from their rival school.

Lima Heights High School was still under construction, held back partially by the weather but mostly because the funds just weren’t there. Updates on the condition of the school hinted that Lima Heights would ride out the remainder of the year at McKinley.

Not only was there harmony in the halls, the glee club had never sounded better than it did with its most recent additions. The group was gearing up to perform in their first competition, and each and every member felt confident and shared a sense of pride for what they had accomplished so far.

All the permission slips were in now, and they were only a week away from Sectionals. Their rehearsals consisted mostly of drills and full run-throughs; it was exhausting, but Blaine had never had more fun or felt so alive as he did when he let himself get lost in the music. Even the thrill of running uninhibited on the football field or beating a particularly difficult video game couldn’t compare.

And getting to do it all beside Kurt was a definite plus.

Blaine finally peered up from his textbook to take in the boy across from him. “Hey, chin up, Kurt. Why do you look so sad today?”

Kurt set his pen down and closed the notebook he’d been doodling in. “Because it’s our first competition. Our first ever competition. And I’m not sad, I’m just...a little emotional.”

“Aw. It is kinda a big deal, huh?”

“I’ve waited a year and a half for this, and it’s finally happening. It’s a _very_ big deal.” Kurt turned toward Blaine. “It probably never would have been possible without you...and Sam and everyone who joined recently.”

“What do you mean? I can hardly take credit for any of this.”

“I never told you this, but at the beginning of the year, we didn’t have enough members to compete. If you’d never joined with Sam, then we’d still be short. We wouldn’t be going to Sectionals this year either.”

“Is that the reason you asked me to join?”

“Sorta...well, no, it’s not the only reason. Show choir is so important to me, and it has been since I first joined it. When Mr. Schue took over and made it a safe space, I felt like I belonged for the first time in my life. It gave me new purpose. Then, your school merged with mine, and I met you, and I had this selfish idea that if I recruited you, then we’d finally be relevant, or, at least, one step closer.” He paused. “Are you mad at me?”

Blaine shook his head. “No, I’m not mad at all. We became friends because of it, right?”

“Best friends,” Kurt said, the corner of his lips twitching upward.

“Then it was a win-win, and we’re even. Because glee club gave me a new purpose, too. Being in glee club, getting to know all of you, helped open my eyes to a lot of things. I _hated_ the idea of coming to Lima, and I hated McKinley and everyone in it when I got here. People weren’t nice, but you came to me, and you were different. You changed my mind, and I made friends here, in show choir. Because of you.”

Kurt’s breath hitched. “I’ll never regret the day I cut glee and sought you out in the weight room.”

“Good. Neither will I,” Blaine said, grinning, his eyes twinkling.

-s-

The audience erupted into wild, raucous applause, and almost everyone was on their feet after the winning show choir was announced.

As soon as they were backstage, Kurt’s knees buckled a little when he was hit with an unexpected weight of a body as Blaine flung his arms around Kurt’s torso. Blaine was ecstatic, riding a high from performing, and he acted on impulse, embracing his best friend. Without hesitation, Kurt hugged him back, gripping him tightly. Kurt smelled so good, and he felt really good, all warm and solid against Blaine’s chest, Blaine’s chin tucked over his shoulder. They held each other for a while before separating, and Blaine was smiling the most dazzling, blissed out smile at Kurt as they stood face to face.

“That was amazing!” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded and took a quivering breath. “I really thought we were going to win.”

“But those other schools...I swear most of them came out of the womb singing and dancing. It was insane,” Blaine said. “We never stood a chance, but it doesn’t matter.”

“They were ridiculously good, freakishly good, actually. At least we know what we’re dealing with now, and if nothing else, it was excellent practice and preparation for next year.”

“Yeah, next year,” Blaine agreed without thinking. The smile he’d been wearing soon fell away when reality dawned on him. There wasn’t a next year for him. Still, glee club wasn’t over, and he’d have ample opportunity to continue singing and dancing in show choir alongside Kurt and his friends, so he wanted to hang onto that and bask in the afterglow of the performance.

Blaine’s gaze suddenly dropped, and he felt himself grow flushed. “I was thinking,” Blaine began, his long, thick, dark eyelashes fanning against his cheeks, “that we should celebrate.” He looked back up into Kurt’s eyes and swallowed thickly.

“Even though we didn’t win?”

“Even though we didn’t win.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, his voice light and airy.

Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt’s hand unexpectedly.

“It’s almost February...” he said, gently squeezing his hand. “Will you go to The Lima Bean with me on Valentine’s Day?”

“That sounds a lot like a date,” Kurt teased, mimicking Blaine from so many days prior. They hadn’t spoken of the incident, but Kurt certainly hadn’t forgotten it.

Blaine intertwined their fingers and ran his thumb over Kurt’s. “Maybe I meant for it to be.”

Kurt’s neck and face grew hot, and he breathlessly uttered, “Yes. I would love that. It’s a date.”

-s-

The Lima Bean was unusually busy for a Sunday afternoon, and Kurt and Blaine had to wait in a long line made up of mostly couples. Kurt advantageously used the extra time to pull off his gloves and scarf before neatly packing them into his messenger bag. The heat was turned up high to combat the wintry conditions outside, and inside it was warm and toasty, and the familiar aromas of coffee, tea, chocolate and fresh pastries wafted all around them.

The small coffee shop certainly wasn’t above being festive, and the interior was covered with hearts and fairy lights and cute little stuffed puppies that were kissing and woodland creatures in pinks and reds and whites. It was whimsical, and although the decor was perhaps a bit cheesy and heavy-handed, Kurt found it altogether romantic. He sighed contentedly, and they shuffled forward as the line continued to move.

They both ordered the same as before, so ordering was quick, and when they finally had their drinks, they scoped out a table for two and claimed it.

“This feels familiar,” Kurt said, smiling dazedly at Blaine over his cup.

“I know I messed everything up the first time. I choked. Not many people get a do-over,” Blaine said. “But I’m happy I did.”

“You choked?” Kurt questioned. “Do you mean that you’ve had feelings for me since the last time we were here...since November?”

“Yeah,” Blaine admitted, a shy grin gracing his lips. “Not to sound totally cheesy or anything, but I’ve liked you since I first saw you...just, not the same way I do now. Not since I’ve gotten to know you.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Kurt said. “I thought you would never ask me out.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.” Blaine stirred his drink, replacing the lid with more grace than before.

“Some things are worth waiting for. Trust me, I didn’t suffer one bit. However,” Kurt said, reaching over the table and taking Blaine’s hand in his, “doing this, holding your hand, was something I’ve been itching to do for months, and it may or may not have kept me up at night.”

Blaine chuckled. “It is nice.”

“Very,” Kurt said.

“Can I tell you a secret now?”

“Of course.”

“The first time I ever heard you sing my first day in the choir room, I had this...moment. I felt like I couldn’t breathe unless you kept singing, and I knew then that I wanted to keep you close to me so I could always hear you sing. And, now, whenever you sing, I always imagine it’s for me.” Blaine took a breath and then bowed his head, feeling sheepish, his cheeks coloring. “I can’t believe...I can’t believe I just told you that. I’m really sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize...” Kurt gently squeezed Blaine’s hand. “The first time I heard your voice, I had to pretend that my heart wasn’t bursting in my chest and that I wasn’t falling completely head over heels for you right there behind the wheel of my car.” It was Kurt’s turn to blush, and he lifted his coffee, giggling nervously into the cup as he peered over it at Blaine.

They drank their coffees in comfortable silence, watching each other, starry-eyed and exchanging silly, love-drunk smiles throughout. Now that he’d put everything out there, the nerves Blaine had once felt around Kurt were no longer associated with fears and insecurities but had metamorphosed into fluttering butterflies that filled his stomach and made him feel like he was on cloud nine and would never come down. There were words on the tip of Blaine’s tongue, words he was a millisecond away from uttering, but he swallowed them down, feeling a bit foolish for even thinking them. He’d been so caught up in the atmosphere and the fact that it was Valentine's Day that it had done funny things to his head, and, although he knew what he was feeling was real, it was far too soon.

There would be more dates, more time to spend with Kurt, and he wanted to cherish them the best he could. Baby steps, he told himself. He wasn’t ready to lay it all out there and make himself too vulnerable, but in due time, Blaine knew that Kurt would be ready to hear what he had to say. Until then, there were other ways of showing him.


	15. Chapter 15

He’d done it on a whim, filled out an application at the coffee shop and handed it to the manager on duty. Blaine had been thinking a lot about how he was about to get his license, but he had no car, and eventually Puck and maybe even Kurt would get tired of having him bum rides off of them.  He didn’t like having to depend on others to get around. With a source of income, he could eventually save up enough to buy a car, something reasonable, reliable, and pre-owned. Pam had driven him to The Lima Bean, where he both began and fortuitously ended his job search. Someone had apparently just quit, and they needed a barista to work part-time including weekends. They interviewed him on the spot and offered him the position. Blaine was all too eager to accept, and he shook the manager’s hand, thanking him profusely. He couldn’t wait to tell his mom, and he couldn’t wait to tell Kurt.

After school the next day, Blaine sought out Kurt at his locker so he could walk with him to glee club, and he was bursting with the good news he had to share.

Blaine took a deep breath before blurting out, “I got a job!”

Kurt hadn’t known he’d been looking, and his surprise was evident in every feature. He slid his last book into his messenger bag, flipping it closed. “Where?”

“The Lima Bean!” He was beaming so wide it looked like it hurt.

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing, Blaine. Now I have more of an excuse to go there and purchase overpriced lattes. I can check out the cute barista while he checks me out.” Kurt hummed, musing a bit. “My boyfriend is a barista, combining two of my most favorite things.”

Blaine felt a blush rise in his face. “That’s the first time you’ve said that, called me your boyfriend.”

“And I’ll say it a million more times because I’m proud to be with you, and I’m proud of you.”

“Good,” Blaine said softly, “I want you to be.”

Kurt held his hand out, and Blaine took it, threading his fingers through Kurt’s. It was all still very new and exciting to both of them, being in a relationship, holding hands, the more intimate physical contact, and it felt like sparks were shooting up Blaine’s arm every time even just their fingertips touched.

They walked like that, hands linked and swinging between them, all the way to the choir room until they were at their seats and had to part. Still, Kurt couldn’t resist leaning in against Blaine and laying his head on his shoulder until Mr. Schuester called for their attention.

“We might not have made it past Sectionals this time, but I’ve got some really exciting news that will hopefully shake the doldrums from our loss. I’m happy to announce that we’ll be putting on a Spring musical!”

Rachel’s hand shot up, but she didn’t bother waiting to be called on to ask her question. “Mr. Schue, have you already chosen a particular show?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” He moved swiftly toward the whiteboard and rolled the one section to the side to reveal something written in big, black letters: “Bye Bye Birdie!”

“Is that the one with Elvis?” Mike asked.

“Yep.”

He nodded in approval. “Sweet.”

“I’d totally play Kim to your ab-licious Birdie,” Tina told Mike, practically purring.

Santana whooped. “ _Wanky_.”

“Who says you’d ever even get the part?” Sugar said, crossing her arms and continuing to chomp on her gum.

“ _You_ wanna be Kim MacAfee?” Artie said. “I could totally see you as Rosie.”

“Pardon me,” Rachel said, trying to draw the attention back to herself. “But I haven’t been taking voice and dance lessons since I was _two_ to not get the lead role. You have to be able to _sing_ to play Rosie,” she added pointedly.

“Whoa!”

“You better be careful, Berry. That theater your dads own is prime real estate here in Lima. At the snap of the fingers, I could have my dad take it from them. You’ll be a loser with no money and no stage to dramatically cry on.”

“This is getting intense,” Puck said, clearly amused as if he was watching a really good and bloody hockey brawl.

“I once met a man in a tent who called himself Elvis.”

“Does anyone _ever_ know what Brittany’s talking about?” Tina asked.

“Hey, lay off her, Cohen-Chang,” Santana snapped.

“Only Santana is allowed to lay on me.”

Puck’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit!”

Mr. Schuester was beside himself and remarkably red in the face, and he took a deep breath and shouted, “Quiet, everyone! That’s enough!”

The chatter died down instantly, and everyone in the room stared wide-eyed at their teacher who looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.

“Auditions will be held next week during Thursday’s glee practice. On your way out, everyone should take a packet and a CD with the audition songs. I’m also placing a sign-up sheet on the activities board and hanging up posters to get the news out, so if you know anyone else who would be interested, even in just being in the company, please let them know.”

Kurt whispered to Blaine, “Screw everyone else, you’d make the perfect Conrad Birdie.”

“But then who would you play?”

“I could be Albert,” Kurt said with a small shrug.

Blaine considered Kurt’s casting choices. “If it worked out like that, one of us might have to kiss Rachel.”

“Now that you put it that way...maybe Finn can play Albert. Oh! But I could do your hair, finally tame those curls, and give you the most perfect pompadour. Can you imagine?”

Blaine loved Kurt’s enthusiasm, but he had to let him down. “I can’t do the musical anyway, Kurt.”

“What? Why not?”

“I have a job now, remember? There’s no way I would have enough time to be part of a production, especially as a lead role.”

“Oh, yeah...I was really hoping we could do it together.” He pouted.

Blaine laid his hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. But, hey, listen...I promise I’ll get off to come see you in it.”

“Do you really have to work that many hours?”

“I do if I’m going to be able to afford a car.”

Kurt was disappointed because he’d gotten so excited about doing the musical with Blaine when Mr. Schuester made the announcement, but then he realized that maybe he was being selfish. He was sad, but he was mostly sad for Blaine who wasn’t as fortunate as Kurt was. Kurt hadn’t had to work a day in his life, and he thought that no high schooler should have to: he had demanding classes, he had his résumé-boosting clubs and activities, and it was his time to learn and grow and make friends and socialize before he was thrust out into the real world. For his birthday the previous year, Kurt had even been gifted a brand new SUV, which was literally just handed to him, while people like Blaine have to work hard for something like that and lose a lot of their freedom and free time because of it. It wasn’t fair, Kurt was realizing, but all of it was out of his control.

-s-

Kurt placed his palms down on the counter and leaned over it a little. “Hey!”

Blaine looked up and around the espresso machine, smiling at the sound of Kurt’s voice and the sight of his face. “Hey, Kurt.”

He cleared his throat, putting on a voice. “I’ll, uh, take a grande nonfat mocha. Please.”

Blaine giggled and then adjusted the visor of his uniform cap. “Coming right up, sir. It’ll be the best mocha you’ve ever tasted, I promise you.”

Blaine finished the drink he’d been making, handed it to the customer who’d been waiting, rang up Kurt, and then started on his drink. Kurt moved around to the other side so he could talk to Blaine while he made his beverage.

“It’s lonely saying my coffee order without yours beside it. Anyway, I came to tell you something, and I’ll try to be quick so I don’t get you in trouble.”

Luckily, there had been no one waiting behind Kurt, so Blaine had the opportunity to slow down some to hear Kurt out. “Go on. I have a little time.”

“First of all, rehearsals for the musical have been going great, but you are sorely missed. But, since you’re here because you’re in the market for a car, I had the most brilliant idea about how to help you reach your goal.”

“I’m not taking any money from anyone,” Blaine said, shooting Kurt a dubious look.  

Kurt shook his head. “It’s not that kind of help. My dad, as you know, is a mechanic, and he has connections. That’s how he got a good deal on my car. So I was thinking that while I’m busy with the musical, you could go out with him on one of your days off, and he could help you find something.”

“Are you sure he’s okay with that?” Blaine said, fixing the lid on Kurt’s now finished latte. He stepped to the side and handed him the drink over the counter, their fingers brushing as he accepted it. “Won’t that be weird, spending time alone with your dad?”

“I don’t think so. You've been over so many times you practically live at my house. My dad loves you, and as long as you’re comfortable around him, I don’t see why it would be awkward.”

Blaine brushed his hands on his apron, his attention briefly diverted by a customer who’d just entered the shop and was now approaching the counter. He looked back at Kurt. “All right. I appreciate the help. I need to go now...”

“I’ll have him call you, if that’s okay?”

Blaine nodded distractedly. “Yeah.”

Kurt took a sip of his coffee and hummed in ecstasy. “You weren’t lying about it being the best mocha. Thank you! I’ll let you go—see you soon!” Kurt said hurriedly, waving as he turned on his heel and headed toward the exit.

Once Blaine had a moment to breathe again in between customers, he fully processed what he’d just agreed to. Although Blaine still found Burt intimidating, for different reasons now that he was dating his son, Burt was laid back and pretty easy to talk to. There wasn’t much potential for a day out with Burt to go wrong, and Blaine let the idea settle in, becoming more comfortable with it as time passed. After all, Kurt was right; having someone who really knew his stuff and would make sure Blaine didn’t get ripped off would guarantee that his car shopping experience went as smoothly as possible and would certainly spare him from future pain.

-s-

There was a slight creaking noise as Burt lifted the hood and set it on the support rod to keep it propped open. He leaned forward and then began to fiddle with a few things, grunting and muttering mostly to himself as he did.

“You don’t want this one,” Burt said decisively. “It has a few issues, and it’ll be too expensive to fix. It may look nice on the outside, but you don’t wanna buy a lemon.”

Blaine wasn’t sure how he could tell all that just from looking, but he would take his word for it.

“There was another one I really liked,” Blaine said. “Over there in the corner.”

Burt lowered the hood, clicking it back into place, twisted around to see where Blaine was pointing, and then brushed his hands together with a nod. “Let’s go have a look.”

“I really appreciate what you’re doing for me, Mr. Hummel.”

“It’s not a problem. You’re a good kid, Anderson, and it doesn’t hurt to have an expert on your side. Buying a car is a really big and important decision, and I wouldn’t wanna see you not get what you want and need.”

“My mom’s pretty clueless when it comes to cars, and my dad...well, if he was around, I probably wouldn’t need your help.” Blaine paused, realizing how rude that might have sounded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s all right. I understand. Kurt tells me a lot of things, so I get what you’re going through, mostly.”

“My dad always used to talk about rebuilding a car with me,” Blaine explained. “Cars were sort of his thing, too. That, and football.”

“Oh yeah, Kurt mentioned you were on the Lima Heights team,” Burt said, lighting up.

“I was—well, I still am. It’s not the worst thing to not have played this year. Football was also something I kinda got into because of my dad. I like it and like watching it, but it’s not what I’m really passionate about, you know?”

“So, you have big dreams too? Like my son?”

Blaine shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I haven’t really thought about what I want to do, who I want to be, and where I might end up. I’ve kinda just been trying to stay above water the best I can. I don’t have much of an opportunity to entertain those types of thoughts.”

They arrived at the car Blaine had identified, and Burt immediately got down to business, checking everything. “This one looks pretty good. You might have yourself a winner here. Cute little thing. Not too expensive either.”

“The mileage is low for its age, and it’s pretty good on gas,” Blaine said. “That was something that made me like this car in the first place.”

“You _have_ done your research. I’m impressed,” Burt said, giving Blaine a fond look of approval.

“As much as I could do and figure out on my own.”

“It’s good that you took the initiative. Most kids your age just leave it to the adults, and then when it comes time for them to do it on their own, they’re clueless. That’s why I make sure Kurt and Finn spend time in the garage at least once a week if they’re not too busy with school stuff. The way I see it is, if I have something to teach my kids, I’m gonna make sure they know it.”

“You’re a really great dad, you know. Kurt doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you.”

Burt paused and looked at Blaine, a question and a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I think he might know, Blaine. My Kurt has a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold, and he’s a lot like his mom, more than he’ll ever know. I’m not perfect. I do my best with him, and all I can do is pray that he listens and grows up into a responsible young man.” Burt dropped his gaze to the ground and shifted from one foot to the other, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I think we’re done here. If this is the one you want, we better go take it for a test drive so you can get a feel for it and then figure out all the paperwork and logistics.”

“Yeah,” Blaine sighed, “I think it’s the one. But, uh, Mr. Hummel?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you do me a favor and not tell Kurt? I want to surprise him.”

Burt grinned and nodded. “No problem. My lips are sealed.”


	16. Chapter 16

During the advent of and in the midst of March Madness, it seemed there had been nothing but basketball on in the Hudson-Hummel household. Kurt, who would much rather watch paint dry than sit around while his dad and stepbrother yelled at giant sweaty people on a screen, had spent the majority of his time at home hiding out in his bedroom, occupying himself with a poem he’d been working on. One of those evenings, he ventured upstairs for a glass of water and was surprised to find his dad sitting alone in the living room watching the news.

Kurt settled down onto the couch cushion beside Burt, shifting and crossing his legs.

“Hey, Kiddo. It’s good to see your face,” Burt said. “Sorry for taking over the TV these past few days, but you know how it is.”

“It’s okay. I had a lot of time to myself to sorta meditate and get some writing done.”

“There’s a news story coming up about Lima Heights High School, by the way. Might wanna stay for that.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

“So...” Burt began, a little awkwardly. “You and Blaine...you getting pretty serious?”

Kurt chuckled and shook his head. “We’ve only been dating for a month, Dad.”

“Isn’t a month a big deal?”

“Well, yeah...it’s an important milestone for a first relationship, but it hardly means we’re ‘getting serious’,” Kurt mocked goodheartedly. It didn’t occur to Kurt that his dad might have been hinting at something else, but it wasn’t a topic he was ready to talk about.

“Blaine’s, uh, he’s a good kid. I hope he treats you with respect. You matter, Kurt. I may not understand the whole gay thing, and how it works between two guys, but I’m trying. I care about you, and I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

“He does, Dad,” Kurt assured him. “Blaine is a perfect gentleman. In fact, he hasn’t even kissed me yet,” Kurt mumbled, barely audible, his voice like a tired sigh.

Burt felt a wave of relief rush over him at his son’s confession. Just then, the anticipated news story popped up on the screen and began to play, and they ended their conversation abruptly to tune into the news. Burt grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

-s-

Blaine’s phone went off, and he quickly reached for it, not checking the caller ID as he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Blaine.”

“Oh, hey, Kurt.” He glanced at the clock on his laptop screen. “It’s kinda late, is something wrong?”

“No, not really. I just wanted to hear your voice and talk to you.”

Blaine shifted in his bed. “So, what’s up?”

“I just saw something about your high school on the news,” Kurt said. “They’re saying that the repairs will definitely be complete for you to return to Lima Heights High next year.”

“Yeah, I figured they would be,” Blaine said.

“It hit me, though, that I won’t see your face every day anymore.”

Blaine was quiet for a minute. “Oh, yeah. But we’ll still have all summer and weekends when the new school year starts.”

“I know. Y’know...you could always transfer,” Kurt said, partially in jest.

Blaine laughed. “No, I can’t, Kurt.”

Kurt sighed. “I know, but the idea sounded so good in my head.” He took a breath. “You know, next year is our junior year, and it’ll be time to start looking at colleges.”

“I haven’t thought about it too much. I mean, we still have a lot of time to figure all that out. Have you thought about it?”

“Yeah. A lot. I know exactly where I want to go, at least, location wise. I have my sights and my heart set on New York City.”

“That’s so far away, Kurt,” Blaine said, trying to imagine the map and distance in his head. There seemed to be this unfathomable abyss between Ohio and New York, which became frustrating to think about. “I’ll have to stay in state and go to Allen County Community.”

“I wouldn’t be able to stay in Ohio. I couldn’t live out my dreams if I did. New York has everything—the people, the bright lights, fashion, theatre, the best performing arts schools in the country...it’s where I belong.”

“You would be amazing in New York...you’d take the city by storm,” Blaine said, but every word he uttered cut deeper, reminding him of the chasm that would inevitably form between them. He would love to have a choice, to be able to go to college anywhere he wanted, to get up and escape to live out some extravagant dream and pursue whatever major he wanted without having to worry. But the truth was that Blaine was limited, not by talent or ability but by his financial situation, and even if he busted his ass at a minimum wage job over the next couple years and received financial aid, he still would never be able to join Kurt. He probably wouldn’t be able to remain a part of Kurt’s future, and he began to imagine Kurt there, hundreds of miles away, and how life would be without him. His chest began to ache. “I would love to be able to go to New York, too.”

Kurt was quiet for a while, unsure how to respond. “I promise, we’ll spend the entire summer together. We’ll keep in touch during high school and through college. We’re not saying goodbye to each other, no matter what.”

“Kurt, don’t you think that’s a little unrealistic?”

“Maybe it is, but you’re worth it, because...I love you.”

“I—”

“I’m sorry that just came out like that. Please don’t feel pressured if you don’t feel the same.”

“I do, Kurt. I care about you so much. I love you, too, and that’s why all of this is so hard for me right now. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think about a future without you in it.”

“Blaine...” Kurt swallowed past the lump in his throat, but he had no other words.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore. We should probably go to sleep now anyway.”

“Okay. Goodnight,” Kurt practically whispered.

“Goodnight, Kurt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Blaine ended the call, set his laptop aside, and let himself fall back onto his pillow. He let out a heavy sigh, running both hands through his hair and then covering his face. Kurt, his boyfriend, had just told him he loved him...so why did he hurt so much? 


	17. Chapter 17

Opening night of the musical was upon them, and after weeks of sweat and toil, Blaine couldn’t wait to sit in the audience, front and center, and watch his boyfriend perform. He’d gone out and splurged on an outfit especially for the occasion, purchased a bouquet of vibrant, long stem red roses, and did his hair like Kurt had been begging him to, taming his thick unruly curls with hair gel, parting and shaping it just right.

Blaine wasn’t sure why Kurt hadn’t gotten the title role, but he was proud of him all the same for getting the lead role that Blaine thought suited him even better.

The show was great, and, although Blaine wished so much that he could have been up there performing with everyone, he found himself smiling like an idiot the entire time, laughing at every well-delivered joke, tapping his foot, and lip-syncing to every musical number. Although it was particularly and unintentionally humorous to watch Finn, who could hardly dance, take on the role of Conrad Birdie opposite Quinn as Kim MacAfee, and especially Kurt as Albert Peterson opposite Rachel as Rosie Alvarez—he cringed a little when they had to kiss—, the production was spectacular and he enjoyed every bit of it. When the final curtain came down and the cast came back out to take their bows, Blaine was on his feet, applauding as loudly as possible.

When Kurt was taking his own bow centerstage, Blaine stepped toward the lip of the stage and passed up the bouquet of roses. Kurt’s entire face turned as red as their petals, and he seemed to have a permanent smile plastered on as he showed off his flowers from his boyfriend.

The auditorium began to empty out, and Blaine began to make his way toward the lobby, but then he took a turn down a hallway and headed backstage toward the dressing room. He knocked on the door, grinning when Kurt opened it, still in costume and makeup.

Kurt threw his arms around Blaine. “Thank you for the flowers! They’re beautiful.” He gave Blaine a quick peck on the cheek and pulled away.

Blaine lightly pressed his fingertips to the spot where his lips had touched. “You were wonderful, Kurt. I wish I could see it again and again—despite the lip lock with Rachel.”

Kurt chuckled. “Stage kisses are strictly close-mouthed and, believe me, I’d like to block kissing my stepbrother’s girlfriend out of my memory as well.”

Watching Kurt kiss Rachel, fake or not, had made Blaine a little uneasy, jealous even, because he had yet to kiss Kurt and to know the taste of his lips. They’d been dating for about two months now, and he still felt like he was waiting for the perfect moment. He had qualms, although he wasn’t sure why, except for his general inexperience when it came to the art of lip-locking. Being with Kurt was comfortable and easy, but kissing him felt like such a huge step to take, and he didn’t want to screw it up. He wanted everything to be perfect and romantic for Kurt, and Blaine often daydreamed about it.

“You look very handsome, Blaine, with your hair styled like that and those stylish new clothes—and you’re even wearing a bowtie!” It was the first time Kurt had seen Blaine so dressed up, and he couldn’t believe how much sexier he looked. “I think this look really suits you.”

“It was a special occasion, so I wanted to look nice. For you.”

Blaine had saved up his last two paychecks and purchased an outfit from the Banana Republic, where his mom worked. It was nice to get a discount, although the clothes were still quite pricey. It was a special occasion, though. It was Kurt’s musical premiere, and Blaine wanted to do everything he could to make sure everything about the evening was perfect. He even put some money aside and was overjoyed that he could take Kurt out to celebrate after the show.

“You don’t mind if we go somewhere just you and I, do you? I don’t want to keep you from going out with the rest of the cast.”

“I don’t mind at all. The cast party isn’t until the final night anyway.”

“Well, then, hurry up and get changed. I have a surprise for you,” Blaine told him.

“Say no more. I’ll be out in a flash!”

Kurt was surprisingly quick, and soon they were headed toward the parking lot. That’s when it struck Kurt that he had no idea how Blaine had gotten there. For some reason, Burt had insisted on driving and dropping Kurt off, using an excuse about wanting to check his tires or something, and it soon became apparent why.

“Ta-da!” Blaine said, opening his arms and gesturing toward a small, blue, four-door coupe.

Kurt gasped. “Oh my god! It’s so cute!”

“And it’s all mine,” Blaine said, so proud to be able to say that. “Well, sorta. I still have to make payments on it.” Blaine pulled the passenger door open, and Kurt slowly climbed in, looking all around the interior.

Blaine spun his keys on his finger as he bounded to the other side, and then slid into his seat behind the wheel, pulling the door closed.

“I love it. So...where are you taking me?”

Blaine ran his hands over the steering wheel and then turned the key in the ignition. “I want it to be a surprise, Kurt. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

When they pulled into the lot of a restaurant, Kurt found it impossible to hold back giggles.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t afford someplace fancier,” Blaine said, interpreting Kurt’s laughter as slight mockery of his choice.

“No, no, Blaine, Breadstix is perfect.” Kurt knew that Blaine would have spent all his money had he brought them anywhere too upscale. The Italian restaurant was popular with the teens of Lima, and Kurt was much happier knowing that there wouldn’t be as much pressure to act a specific way and that they could just eat and be themselves. “I would be so mad at you if you even tried to take me somewhere more expensive, especially after you bought the car and you’ve already done so much for me. I wouldn't expect you to be able to afford more.”

“You’re right, I would have gone completely broke,” Blaine said with a laugh, and he wasn’t the least bit offended by Kurt’s comment. It was honest; he knew Kurt meant no harm by it, and they were comfortable enough now with each other that they could joke about money. Still, he thought Kurt deserved the world, and he would give as much of it to him as he possibly could.

The night and atmosphere were relaxing, and the food was good. Kurt and Blaine enjoyed each others’ company while they indulged in pasta dishes and endless breadsticks, swapping anecdotes about their separate experiences with the show as an audience member and as a cast member, including all the backstage shenanigans and drama. Blaine couldn’t stop laughing and smiling at Kurt’s quips and praising Kurt, and Kurt couldn’t stop blushing. They’d talked at length about how Mercedes was a riot as Mama Peterson and how well they played off each other; they were glad for the non-traditional casting, though they weren’t sure the audience was convinced and might not have appreciated the irony.

“Well, hey now,” Blaine said, managing to keep a straight face, “you could be biracial. Look at me. I bet you never would’ve known if you’d never met my mom.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said through snickers, “have you _seen_ how white I am?”

They both fell apart again, laughing hard until they were breathless.

When the date drew to a close, Blaine finally had the opportunity to be the one driving and dropping Kurt off at home. It felt so good to finally feel like he could give back even a fraction of what Kurt had given him over the past few months.

The night air was chilly, spring still on the horizon, and Kurt shivered as Blaine walked him to his front door, their hands linked between them.

The porch light flickered on when they were a few feet away, and they stopped at the top of the step in front of the door.

Blaine was playing with Kurt’s fingers, just enjoying the moment and not wanting to let go, but eventually he had to. He lifted his gaze to meet Kurt’s, soft and sweet, tender and twinkling like there were stars in his eyes. Blaine was mesmerized and so in love, and Kurt was standing there, almost expectantly. Blaine found himself desperately wanting to lunge forward and kiss Kurt on the mouth, without a care in the world who saw them. He leaned in, faltering a bit, and then wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling him into a hug.

When they separated, Kurt said, “I guess this is goodnight. Thank you for everything. I had a very lovely evening.”

“Anytime, Kurt,” Blaine said, his mouth curling into a grin. “Goodnight.”

Without another word, Blaine watched Kurt pull open the door and disappear into the house.

Once he was back in his car, Blaine just sat there, stunned. Anger soon set in, flooding through him, and he was so mad at himself for not kissing Kurt. Everything had been perfect about the moment after such a wonderful night. It was as if the stars and planets had all aligned, and all he had to do was close the space between them and finally press his lips to Kurt’s, but he’d blown it. He’d been so stupid and so scared, and he wasn’t sure what was still holding him back. Blaine had been longing to kiss Kurt since the day they sat on the hood of his car in the snow, and now it would forever nag him that he hadn’t done it, the constant reminder of what a loser he was. Kurt was his boyfriend, and even Rachel had kissed him before Blaine could, which really unsettled him as he sat there.

Blaine pulled himself together the best he could so he could safely drive home. Takeout box in hand containing a slice of his mom’s favorite cake, Blaine entered the house. She’d been waiting up for him on the couch, and when he handed the box to her, he gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Did you have fun?” Pam asked him.

“Yeah.” Blaine smiled weakly, exhaustion finally setting in. “The show was wonderful. I had a really great night. It was...perfect.”

Blaine headed to bed, hoping that he could sleep off the terrible feeling of his failure.


	18. Chapter 18

“I’m glad we at least had enough submissions to put together an issue, however measly it is,” Kurt said to Mercedes, staring at the computer screen as he pasted a poem into the template. His head was resting in his left hand, and he sighed heavily as he finished formatting one of the final pages of the spring issue of the McKinley literary magazine, ironically named the “Titular Titan Tome.” Ms. Holliday had thought it was hilarious for various reasons, and, while not completely amused and somewhat confused, the few members of the club had at least appreciated the alliteration.

It didn’t matter what they’d called it though; the truth was that not many people bothered to pick up a copy and read it. Still, it was something they enjoyed creating over the course of the year, and they were always proud of the final product, when all their work came together into something tangible.

As the editor-in-chief, Kurt shouldered a lot of the workload and actual construction of the magazine, but he was grateful to have Mercedes there at his side to help.

Mercedes was clicking around through the pages, scanning and double-checking that everything was in order, when she came across a poem that gave her pause.

“Wait a minute, Kurt...you never told me about this one.” She began to read through the poem.

Kurt looked over at her screen, his brow furrowed. “Huh? Which one? Oh, yeah,” he said, recognizing his own work.

Mercedes grew giddy, starting to giggle as she reached the end. “Aww, Kurt,” she said. “It’s really romantic.”

“You really think so? It’s something I wrote a few months ago, back in February, actually, when Blaine and I first became official. I revised it a lot, though. It took a while to get it just right.”

“Does he know you wrote this? Please tell me Blaine knows!”

Kurt shook his head. “Nope. I kept it a secret and was waiting to publish the issue. I want it to be a surprise.”

“That’s even more romantic. I wish Sam would write something like this for me,” she said wistfully. “He’s not the poetic type, but he _is_ an amazing kisser.”

“I can only imagine what those lips of his can do,” Kurt said, and they both began to snicker.

“Don’t imagine too hard, Hummel. He’s still my boyfriend.”

“You have nothing to worry about. My mind is occupied with fantasies about one person and one person only—not counting celebrities, that is.”

“You get a free pass on Taylor Lautner and Ricky Martin,” she said. “I’m sure Blaine would understand.”

“And Adam Levine, and the ever dreamy Matt Bomer...” Kurt added with a sigh. “I should stop. This list could go on for days.”

“Are you two almost finished?”

Kurt jumped and spun around in his chair. “Jesus, Ms. Holliday! You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“I overheard an awful lot of talk concerning young, hot, male celebs—and not much work being done. While I’d love to offer my two cents’ worth in that discussion, it’s almost four o’clock now, and we need to finish up so y’all don’t grump out on me.”

“Grump out...?” Mercedes said skeptically.

“Just _go_ with it,” Ms. Holliday said. “That’s what so many people did for my man, Billy Shakes, and look how the English language has grown since.”

“We just finished putting everything into the correct template, but I need a little help deciding on the cover image and saving it properly to send it to the printer,” Kurt explained. “I’m torn between these two pictures. Any thoughts...?”

Ms. Holliday flashed Kurt and Mercedes a gleaming grin.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

-s-

Blaine had had enough. He couldn’t take it anymore, and he practically slammed the cover shut on his laptop, putting that stupid game out of sight, but, unfortunately, not out of mind. He felt like a petulant child, sitting there in his bed, mad at the world and sick of himself.

He’d never forgiven himself for the evening following the musical. What made things worse was that, almost as if they were mocking him, the Kurt and Blaine sims were now married and kissing quite frequently. If reality could be as easy as that, he’d already know the taste and feel of Kurt’s lips, and Kurt would know just how much pent up love Blaine was harboring in his body, in his heart, and in his soul for that boy. Every ounce and every drop, and he needed somewhere to put it before it killed him.

So maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but even his videogame was acting as a reminder for him to get his shit together and take the plunge. At least one thing was still amusing about the game, and that was the relationship—or lack thereof—between the Sam sim and the Mercedes sim he had since created for Sam. They didn’t seem to really like each other and must not be compatible; the Mercedes sim rejected the Sam sim whenever they spoke or flirted.

The end of the school year was just around the bend, and all things academia were winding down for the most part. Pretty soon, Blaine would be leaving McKinley for the last time, and he was very conflicted, not sure if he was mostly happy or sad about it.

The fire at Lima Heights High School had changed everything. Less than a year ago, Blaine was just beginning to grow into his skin, figuring out how to navigate what it meant to be gay and out, a realization he’d had during his freshman year. He was figuring out how he fit in amongst his peers and seeking acceptance from his friends and family. Blaine was just Blaine: single, a little shy, an athlete, and a kid who just liked to shoot the shit with his friends and play videogames.

When the schools merged, Blaine met a boy who introduced him to a whole other side of himself he hadn’t known and reawakened things in him that had been dormant and nearly forgotten.

At McKinley, Blaine fell in love with a boy for the first time, and he fell back in love with music and performing, with the rush of being on a stage in front of a live audience, of singing his lungs out and dancing with abandon. He now truly and wholly understood the meaning of glee club, and he embraced every facet of it and every wonderful thing that had developed from his experience with that group of people who were so unlike himself, but became a group of friends and a means of support.

For all that, he was happy. Blaine couldn’t have asked for things to turn out any better than they had, but he’d always known in the back of his mind that it all had to end. Although Kurt seemed so attuned to his own dreams and aspirations and so certain of his future, what would come next was mostly uncertain for Blaine. But if nothing else, he knew that he wanted Kurt to remain a part of it.

Blaine opened his laptop again, daring to look upon the perfect little world he and Kurt had created together. He knew that life wasn’t simple or even fair, and that there was no superbeing hovering above him to clean up when things became messy or to put out fires when they caught, but as Blaine watched the game play on, he felt hopeful. He knew that there were many things he could control, choices that were his to make, things he could create, and, even if he had to fight and struggle a little more than others, at least he would know that the struggle was worth it, and he’d given life everything he had. And Blaine still had a lot of fight left in him.

-s-

June brought with it an oppressive heat, and the literary magazine was hot off the presses. Thankfully, it was cool inside the walls of William McKinley High, and Kurt practically skipped down the hallway, dodging bodies and weaving his way through the throngs of students who were milling about, swapping yearbooks and phone numbers with promises to keep in touch. Kurt had clutched in his hand a different type of book, one that held more than documented memories and mostly unfortunate school pictures. There were intimate pieces of himself that he’d spilled across pages, had bled out into that little book of poem and prose, and he was excited to finally be able to take those pieces of himself and share them with the boy who’d inspired him in so many ways.

Blaine looked up from his locker, which he’d been in the process of cleaning out. “Kurt!”

“Blaine,” he said, just wanting to say his name. “I have something for you.” He held the book up, displaying the cover. “Page twelve,” he said, handing it over to Blaine without any real explanation.

Blaine held the literary magazine like it was fragile and precious, and then he slowly, carefully flipped open the cover and turned to the specified page, understanding immediately why Kurt had brought it to him.

He read it silently to himself, unable to fight a smile from breaking across his face, and then he looked back up at Kurt, teary-eyed.

“You wrote this...for me?”

“Yeah.”

Kurt was knocked back a bit, swaying as he nearly lost his balance as Blaine’s mouth connected with his. His eyes fell closed, and he brought his hand up to cup Blaine’s face and draw him in closer as he kissed him back, feeling dizzy and high and a rush of indescribable relief. Blaine deepened the kiss, holding nothing back, and he didn’t care who was watching. In fact, he wanted everyone to see him kissing Kurt Hummel, his handsome boyfriend, the kindest, most amazing, most interesting boy whom he loved so dearly and so completely and who loved him for all that he was and all that he wasn’t. _Finally_ , Blaine thought, attacking Kurt’s lips with even more vigor, yet still with tenderness and unwavering passion. Finally. Suddenly the air around them felt warm and electric, and it was all so incredibly overwhelming.

Kurt pulled away with a sharp intake of breath, and Blaine had to hold back from chasing his lips.

“I...” Blaine began breathlessly. “I should have done that much sooner.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Kurt’s eyes searched his face.

“It just never...felt like the right time.”

“Was it worth the wait?”

Blaine’s lips quirked up at the question, the most sincere and adoring smile breaking across his face as he stared resolutely into Kurt’s eyes. “Worth every second.”

* * *

**Junction**

by Kurt Hummel

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood...

but this isn’t _that_ poem.

I was set on one by fate,

the other unfit to traverse,

set in darkness and mystery.

The roads, they met,

when those woods combusted from the pressure,

a beautiful and wild blue-green-red-orange ball of gorgeous gaseous energy

and matter that rose toward the countenance of a deep sapphire sky,

clouding, concealing, capable of creation,

a big bang of glorious elements that crashed and swirled

and came together, harmoniously, fortuitously,

and from those ferocious flames came something new,

something fresh, born from the ashes and

planted into the heart of a boy,

who learned

that when yellow and blue collide, they don’t bleed or break...

they make green,

something unknown,

an uncharted territory under the great golden skies,

where another path can be laid down on which

those who walk two paths

now walk together.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :D
> 
> Chapter 18 is the final chapter, but fear not! There is an epilogue! (And, boy, is it one hell of an epilogue.)


	19. Epilogue: Homecoming, Senior Year

Kurt sat in the noisy, crowded stands, surrounded by a sea of black, red and white jerseys, hats, jackets, scarves, banners, flags, and even some foam fingers that were occasionally lifted and waved high in the air. He pulled his scarf higher on his face to cover his nose as a shiver ran the length of his body.

Burt returned to his seat on the cold bleachers and handed Kurt a hot dog with all his favorite fixings.

Eagerly accepting the food, Kurt pulled the scarf back down, “Oh god, thank you!” He brought the steaming food to his mouth, inhaling deeply. “It smells delicious. I don’t know how much longer I would have been able to sit here without something to occupy me.”

Burt chuckled and shook his head. “You’re at a football game, Kurt, and that’s not exciting enough?”

“Nope. It’s too confusing. At least the halftime show was amazing. I never realized how talented the Cheerios are. Maybe I should have joined the squad,” he added, more to himself than to his dad.  

“Well, anyhow, thanks for inviting me out with you to the game,” Burt said with a grin. “It’s really good to spend time with you like this, especially now.” He reached over and gave Kurt a brief one-armed hug.

“Trust me, you’re doing me more of a favor by coming and keeping me company...” Kurt looked out across the way at the stands that contained the opposing team’s fans, decked out in all purple, gold, and black tones.

Suddenly, everyone was on their feet, the air filling with deafening cheers, and Kurt looked down at the field just as one of the Titans reached the end zone. He would clap if his hands weren’t full, but he gave a quick jubilant shout before stuffing the end of the hot dog into his mouth and taking a generous bite.

“Y’know, Blaine’s pretty good,” Burt said once the cheers died down. “Even though McKinley’s winning, the Ravens are putting up quite a fight.”

The scoreboard now read 30-14 and they were in the last quarter of the game.

Kurt swallowed the food in his mouth. “I might not know much about football, Dad, but I’m pretty sure they’re still getting creamed.”

Burt chuckled. “So, uh, did Blaine ever hear back about that scholarship? The one for creating that charity thing, the performing arts program for underprivileged kids?”

“Yeah,” Kurt said, feeling all warm inside despite the chilly autumn night air. “He got it, and now he has his sights set on attending Ohio State for theatre, and he’s gonna keep playing football too.”

“You two, you did such a great job organizing that and directing it. He deserves everything he’s getting.”

“We couldn’t have done it alone.” Kurt gave his dad a knowing look that held all his unspoken gratitude. “Sam’s little brother and sister were the perfect guinea pigs, too.”

Burt nodded, turning his head back toward the action. “All the children looked like they were having a lot of fun. And you’re submitting that play you wrote with your college apps, right?”

“Yeah,” Kurt sighed, “the manuscript _and_ a DVD of the performance.” He crossed his fingers, a bout of nerves hitting his stomach at the thought of being so close to making it to New York. “Here’s hoping that I get at least one call for an audition.”

“You will. Those schools would be stupid to not want you.”

The clock counted down the final few minutes of the game, and Kurt could feel his anticipation building. Once it was all over, the stands became chaotic as people moved about every which way in attempt to clear out.

After waiting a few minutes for a clear path, Kurt rushed down the bleachers, stepping out onto the field and looking all around until he finally spotted him, number twenty-six. He strode across the field, and once he was behind the player, he placed his hands firmly on his hips, laughing when he jumped at the sudden contact and turned.

Blaine pulled out his mouthpiece and then removed his helmet, revealing damp, sweaty, wild curls, a huge smile taking over his face.

“I knew there’d be some sort of silver lining to this game and inevitable loss,” Blaine said, taking Kurt into his arms. He leaned in and kissed him, giggling and licking his lips when he pulled away. “You taste like mustard.”

“Oh!” Kurt felt embarrassed and covered his mouth. “I’m really sorry, I—”

“No, no,” Blaine cut him off, pulling him even closer by the waist to his body until he was flush against his chest. “You taste really good.”

Kurt giggled as they kissed again, allowing their mouths to open and tongues to roam, tracing along lips and teeth; it was like fulfilling so many romantic teen fantasies for Kurt, making out with his football player boyfriend on the field post game with the lights illuminating them. He slid his hand down from the small of Blaine’s back and gave his ass a squeeze through his nylon-spandex pants, and Blaine moaned into his mouth and then pulled away with a gasp.

“ _Kurt_ ,” he said, his voice thick and deep. “You know you can’t do that...but, god, I’m so happy to see you.”

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hips again, pressing himself against him. “I can tell,” he purred into his ear.

“That’s my cup,” Blaine lied through a laugh, his entire body on fire.

Kurt grinned impishly. “At least you’re using protection.”

“I still can’t believe you braved the cold and the homecoming crowd just to see me get my ass handed to me.”

“Oh, it really wasn’t that painful. Especially since your ass,” he gave it another squeeze and a pat, “is all mine now. And seeing you out there in those tights, getting tackled...it was so _hot_.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Move apart, boys! Can’t have two horny teenagers scoring in the end zone. At least go under the bleachers like any self-respecting high schoolers.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and laughed. “Fuck off, Coop. Why do you always do that?” he groaned. “You completely just killed the mood.”

“Isn’t that what big brothers are for?” He winked at Kurt and flashed them a shit-eating grin.

“When you promised to come around, I didn’t know you were going to be the biggest cockblock to ever cockblock,” Blaine said. “But, yeah,” he grinned affectionately, “I guess that _is_ what big brothers are for.”

“Hey, now,” Cooper said. “Don’t blame me. You two need to learn to be more sneaky. Also, I’m ‘taking you two out’ tonight, remember?”

“Mmhmm,” Kurt hummed, “and I wasn’t complaining.”

“I’ll meet you two back at the car then...” Cooper said, pointing and winking again in the most ridiculous and dramatic way. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, spinning them on his finger, and headed toward the lot.

“C’mon,” Blaine said gruffly, “my car’s parked by the woods over there. Lemme get changed real quick, and then we can hurry up and get some alone time together.”

“You’d think we had enough of it over the summer,” Kurt said.

“There’s no such thing as enough with you. I will never get enough of you.”

“Same. Oh, god, just hurry up in the locker room.” Kurt bit his lip as he followed Blaine toward the school and into the building, his eyes fixed on his ass the entire time.

When Blaine resurfaced and exited the locker room in fresh clothing, smelling of lavender soap and citrus shampoo, Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand and yanked him along impatiently. There was only one thing on his mind, and that was how much he just wanted to put his hands all over him, press his body against his, explore every inch of him with his mouth and tongue....how much he wanted to just _be_ with Blaine.

Blaine let out a whimper when Kurt pulled open the car door and pushed Blaine down onto his back, laying him out on the backseat. He climbed in, straddling Blaine’s hips, and then grasped his shirt by his shoulder, lowering his head and bringing his face just centimeters from Blaine’s. His hot, ragged breath ghosted over Blaine’s cheek and caused his eyes to momentarily fall closed.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Blaine sighed.

Kurt rolled his hips down, slowly, sensually.

“Fuck, Kurt. Just kiss me.”

Blaine grabbed his face and brought Kurt’s lips to his, kissing him desperately, hungrily, his hips jerking up to grind against Kurt.

Kurt pulled back with a sharp intake of breath. “Are you sure you really want to do this?”

“Yeah,” Blaine nodded, again and again.

“Right after homecoming?”

“Kurt, we waited and spent all summer playing it safe, becoming comfortable with each other and with the idea. We’ve been together for almost two years now. Being back here at McKinley where we met is almost like a homecoming for me, and I don’t know why, but everything just feels so right.”

“We don’t have to do it like this, but, you’re right, and I want you so bad right now.” He took a breath, searching Blaine’s eyes. “Whatever we do, we do it together.”

“Show me,” Blaine breathed, “show me how bad you want me.”

Kurt’s heart was beating hard in his chest, his pants growing impossibly tight. “Is that a challenge?” he said, his hand already sliding down toward the waistband of Blaine’s sweats.

Blaine’s eyes were dark and filled with lust. “You bet it is.”

“Well, you’re about to get beat a second time tonight—only, this time,” he curled his fingers around his waistband, yanking up on it, “we both win.”

Kurt’s hand disappeared beneath the fabric, and Blaine threw his head back and let out a strangled moan. Kurt’s name left his mouth so many times that night that it should have lost all meaning, should have become nonsense, but instead the repeated string of that monosyllabic word morphed into paradise and bliss and love.

Love, love, love...

“I love you,” Blaine said, gently brushing Kurt’s damp hair away from his forehead and carding his fingers through it.

Kurt smiled the softest most sincere and assured smile.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the epilogue! :D
> 
> I wanted to express my immense gratitude to my beta, ancientgleek-youngatheart (tumblr), who not only volunteered to help me out, but also stuck with me through the entire story (even when life got in the way). 
> 
> I also want to thank riverance for reading through the fic, giving me feedback, and being as encouraging as always. :)
> 
> I found while I was writing this fic that it turned out like an alternate first season of Glee, and it was a lot of fun to reimagine the story as I did. It would have been really interesting to have seen canon tackle the issue of social class in a more involved way, but I'm glad the writers gave us just enough so that I could explore the characters and the issue how I wanted. That's the beauty of fanfic! ;)


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